I left my church last night.

It was almost four years since I’d arrived (3 years and 52 weeks to be precise).

I’m not leaving because I’m angry. Or bored. Or disenfranchised. Or even because I just feel like something different. I left because it’s time to move on to the next part of the church planting journey.

It was sad to go, because I love that church. I loved being part of a community where I could just be another guy at church. I could volunteer and not get paid, and not have to go to staff meetings, and always be able to pass the buck.

But more than that I just love being part of the community. I have so many good friends. People who are willing to seek Jesus and help others meet him. I’ve been so blessed to have gone to a church where they let me run the youth group for three years. I’ve been blessed to be able to hang out with a bunch of great youth. I’ve loved seeing people become Christians. I’ve loved that there were so many ways that I got to see people grow in their faith. I’ve loved being in a church with leadership who are easy to respect and follow.

Plus they’ve been incredibly supportive of the church plant. Last night we got prayed for and sent out, and it felt great to be surrounded by a bunch of people who love us and want to see us do what God has called us to.

God is so good to have put me in a church like that. I’m sad to be leaving. But I’m pleased to know they’ll still be around changing lives for Jesus.

I hate leaving churches. And I hate leaving youth groups. Hopefully I don’t have to leave another for many, many years.