St. Oliver
I was on my Sunday morning train ride, skulking home from a Saturday night not spent at home with tousled hair and the feeling that everyone knew I was in the same clothes I was dancing in the night before. People were dressed well for a Sunday morning train ride. The people behind me talking about the way God led them to Moody Bible Institute. The people in front of me were carrying bibles. Everyone was going to church. I used to do that, I think. It seems foreign to me now. I didn't feel any of the guilt I always imagined the people in my shoes feeling when the roles were reversed. The only thing that ran through my mind was how I lived with a girl once who claimed that her beagle, Oliver, carried books for blind students at the Moody Bible Institute. The truth was much uglier. Oliver subsisted on a steady diet of Christian children.
I now exactly what you mean! I remember when I went to church 3 times a week and thought that I'd feel terrible if I didn't do it. Now, I haven't been to church in a WHILE... and while I don't think an internet comment is the place to get into why that is, suffice it to say that I don't feel guilty about not going right now. It's interesting how that happens.