A friend and I were on our way to an event in Valley Forge, PA. After driving for a while, the highway suddenly split. The signs were confusing, and I didn't have much time to think. Instinctively, I picked the road on the left. My friend and I quickly realized I had made the wrong choice. And there was no exit for miles. What's worse than continuing in the wrong direction when you know it's the wrong direction? Knowing that you have to do it all again when you finally get turned around!

We left for deeply personal reasons. But that didn't make it easy. It was the place we called "home." For me, it was 27 years, and for my wife, it was 18. But it was the only church our kids knew. Time has passed, but we still feel the weight of leaving something of value behind.