Why My Pilgrimage Led Me Home

A Curious Pilgrim Reflection

On Sunday, June 7, 2026, I will kneel before the bishop and be confirmed as a member of St. James Episcopal Church in Springfield, Missouri.

At seventy-six years old, some might wonder why anyone would make such a change. Others will understand immediately.

Life is a journey.

More importantly, life is about relationships.

One of the most important lessons I ever learned came many years ago at Free Will Baptist Bible College (now Welch College). In a Bible Ethics class taught by Dr. Leroy Forlines, he explained that every human being lives within four basic relationships:

• Our relationship with God
• Our relationship with other people
• Our relationship with ourselves
• Our relationship with the universe around us

At the time, it seemed like a simple classroom lesson.

Today, I realize it was a seed.

Over the years that seed has been watered by experience, nourished by study, challenged by suffering, and strengthened by grace. What began as an idea has become a way of understanding life itself.

My faith journey has taken me through several Christian traditions.

I was raised in the Free Will Baptist Church. My father was a Free Will Baptist minister. When he died, I was only fourteen years old. At fifteen, I became pastor of the small country church he had served. At sixteen, I was ordained.

Those experiences shaped me forever.

The Free Will Baptist Church taught me the importance of Scripture, personal faith, freedom of conscience, and a relationship with God that is real and personal. For those gifts, I will always be grateful.

Later, I spent time in the Church of the Nazarene, where I learned more about the Wesleyan tradition and the call to holy living.

Eventually that journey led me to the United Methodist Church. There I encountered John Wesley’s understanding that truth is discovered through Scripture, tradition, reason, and experience.

Methodism taught me something else that changed me deeply: the mystery of grace.

I began to see God not merely as a judge but as One who is continually drawing humanity toward healing, reconciliation, and love.

So perhaps I am a theological mongrel.

Part Baptist.
Part Nazarene.
Part Methodist.

And now Episcopalian.

Honestly, I am comfortable with that.

Each tradition gave me a gift. Each helped shape who I am.

The Episcopal Church feels less like a departure and more like a homecoming.

Here I have found a community where faith and reason walk together.

I have found a church that welcomes all people as beloved children of God regardless of nationality, ethnicity, race, gender, or sexual orientation.

I have found a church where questions are not feared.

I have found a church where beauty matters.

The architecture points beyond itself.

The music lifts the soul.

The liturgy connects me to Christians across centuries.

The sacraments remind me that God is still present and active in ordinary things like bread, wine, water, and people.

Every Sunday I hear the Word proclaimed and experience the mystery of God’s grace at the Lord’s Table.

I have discovered that faith is not weakened by asking questions.

In fact, faith often grows stronger.

One Sunday years ago, a child asked me if dinosaurs were real.

Another time, a seven-year-old boy asked if I would conduct a funeral for his dog.

Neither question appeared in my theology textbooks.

But both questions taught me something important.

Faith is not merely about having answers.

Faith is about taking people seriously.

It is about recognizing wonder wherever we find it.

It is about believing that God is present in tears shed for a beloved pet, in a child’s fascination with dinosaurs, in beautiful music, in scientific discovery, in bread and wine, and in the everyday experiences of ordinary people.

The older I become, the less interested I am in defending denominational labels and the more interested I am in following Jesus.

I still believe Scripture is sacred.

I still believe God is love.

I still believe grace is mysterious.

I still believe every person bears the image of God.

And I still believe there is room at God’s table for all who hunger and thirst for righteousness.

On June 7, I will be confirmed as an Episcopalian.

But more than that, I will be reaffirming a lifelong commitment to seek God wherever God may be found.

My journey has taken me through country churches, Bible colleges, revival meetings, Methodist sanctuaries, and now Episcopal liturgy.

Through it all, I have discovered that God was never absent.

God was present at every step of the journey.

And for this curious pilgrim, that journey has finally led me home.

As I reflect on this journey, one Scripture continues to guide me:

“He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” — Micah 6:8

Perhaps that is what this pilgrimage has always been about.

Not finding the perfect church.

Not having all the answers.

Not winning theological arguments.

But learning to walk humbly with God, to love others as God loves them, and to seek justice, mercy, and compassion wherever life leads us.

On June 7, 2026, I will be confirmed as a member of St. James Episcopal Church. I do so with gratitude for every church, every pastor, every teacher, every friend, and every experience that helped shape my faith.

The Free Will Baptist Church gave me roots.

The Wesleyan tradition taught me to think deeply about grace.

The United Methodist Church helped me discover the richness of sacramental life.

And the Episcopal Church has given me a home where Scripture, tradition, reason, experience, beauty, mystery, and inclusiveness meet around Christ’s table.

The journey continues.

As all journeys do.

A Prayer for Fellow Pilgrims

Gracious and Loving God,

We give You thanks for every road that has brought us to this moment. For the churches that nurtured us, the people who encouraged us, the questions that challenged us, and the experiences that transformed us, we offer our gratitude.

Bless all who are on a spiritual journey today.

For those who feel lost, grant direction.

For those who are wounded by religion, grant healing.

For those who are searching, grant wisdom.

For those who feel alone, grant companionship.

For those who doubt, grant courage to keep seeking.

Help us to see Your presence not only in sanctuaries and sermons, but also in friendships, acts of kindness, moments of beauty, scientific discovery, laughter, tears, and the ordinary experiences of daily life.

Teach us to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with You.

And remind us that wherever the journey leads, Your love has already gone before us.

In the name of Christ, who welcomes all pilgrims to the table of grace.

Amen.

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be at your back.
May the sun shine warmly upon your face.
And until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Amen.