As my facebook status currently indicates, I walked out of church this morning. Standing there, I tried to worship God, but it felt so contrived-  like I was faking it. The music was familar and well played, but my heart was not in it. Too much head noise, too many distractions. The lights flickering from the stage, my annoyance at the group of girls commenting on how I was wearing jeans and a tshirt, the prayers intertwined with the song that sounded like they were straight from a Christianese Hallmark card, singing songs about fire falling down and being the hands and feet of the Gospel knowing that the words are seemingly empty... I could not focus. Nothing in worship changed from the last time I was there, none of these criticisms are new, but for some reason this morning I could not get through the emerging church "Sunday's coming" model  that every church has seeming adopted (catch the funny video reference on vimeo). I dropped to my knees hoping to tune out the distractions and hear God's voice...

"Why are you here? This isn't you. You want to love and serve me with all you have, all I have given you and this isn't the place for you. Here, you are caged. So why are you trying soo hard to fit here? Just leave. Get up, walk to your car, leave. We can talk on your way back. We'll start with your family. Love and serve there. If they see you like this, so passionate and wrecked and excited, they will understand. Go tell them what you have seen, how you have changed, what you desire... let's start there. Get up and worship me...."

So I got up, and as soon as I had the opportunity to sneak out without being distracting, I walked out mid-worship and got in my car. 4.5 hours later....after hours of worship through prayer, spoken word, spontaneous song, and a bit of dancing behind the wheel...

Through a stream of tears, I began telling my brother what God is doing in my life, what God is doing in Ibiza, what I hope God will continue doing in the people I met these last few weeks.  From the perspective of my brother who has known me my entire life and has not necessarily been affirming of what I have been doing recently, "Yeah, that all sounds cool. Sounds like something you'd do. Sounds more like you than what you are doing now. You're going back, right? For a few months, maybe a year or something? I can't see you there forever, well I can't actually see you anywhere forever, but I can see you living in Spain for a bit.  Just be sure to get some international calling on that phone."
 
Survey says: I have a strong feeling I'll be back in Ibiza next summer. The question is just a matter of the length and context of my stay on the island.