It had been six months since we had been to church. Our daughter—our second child—was now six months old. Unlike most children, my children scream in the car, no matter how long of a drive it 
is. So my wife and I made a habit of not driving more than ten minutes at a time. Our church was thirty minutes away, and we would then have to sit with our children in the nursery the whole time, after hearing them cry all the way across town.
These impediments inspired us to try some churches around us. And during that time, I became aware of two things: the unnecessary separation of children from their families that pervades modern churches; and that the theology differed widely between different “non-denominational” pastors. And it was at that moment I decided to start reading about theology and learning the roots of the different traditions.
My father is a Pentecostal pastor. And it wasn’t until I had left the church for a highly secular life and returned a decade later that I bothered to ask what Pentecostal meant. Later, I got married and consciously identified as a “non-denominational” for five years. But after years of hearing pastors pick and choose quotes that fit their sermon from writers who wouldn’t agree on much, I became aware of my pressing need to understand the differences within Christianity. So my search began.
I started with the Second Great Awakening, reading the descendants of Wesleyanism, the Free Methodists, and the Christian and Missionary Alliance. Then I worked backward through time: the First Great Awakening, Presbyterianism, Anglicanism, Lutheranism, Roman Catholicism, and so many in between. I longed for two things: a rich, well-attested-to and well-argued faith, and a haven where my family could walk that journey together (i.e. keep our kids with us in church). We found so much beauty and richness in the history of each church we attended. But also a strange ignorance within each modern community. Some were unaware of the intricacies their own tradition, and some didn’t like the views of their own church. Equally disillusioning was that some were homogenous and dying out. I continually failed to discover the Church of our Lord. So I kept praying and allowing God to lead me.
The last stone left unturned was Orthodoxy. I was aware of it, but I didn’t know how to approach it. It seemed shrouded in mystery. But I couldn’t put all my eggs into the Lutheran basket (where I had ended up at this point) without at least attempting to step into that mystery. So after pouring over forums and debates, reading The Way of a Pilgrim, watching YouTube channels and listening to podcasts for the better part of a year (Trisagion Films, Protecting Veil, Theoria, Hank Hanagraaf’s discussions with Dr. Nathan A. Jacobs, Ancient Faith, and many more), and reading histories of Christianity in the East, I stepped into Logos Bookstore and met Paraskevi. Needless to say it was easy to accept her invitation to attend a service. So I attended five Vespers services … and then COVID hit.
But by then I knew I’d found home. It took a few months of introducing my family before we made the decision to get as close to this unfathomable well as we could. I loved every minute of the search. I learned so much and grew so much love for all the different traditions. But while they each obviously had some of the life-giving water from the well, I didn’t stop until I found the source.
