In 2003, when Jodi and I decided to move to Minnesota, I was media relations manager for Ferris State University in Michigan. We were in our twenties, both working, with three preschoolers in daycare and living five miles or so from my folks.

As I prepared to leave that role, a colleague a few years older than me gave me a set of nice pens inscribed with my name and three C words that he felt described me. I don’t recall the first two, but the last one was “Courage”—that one I remember because I thought it strange at the time. We were young and in love; I had just landed a great-paying job with a marketing firm in Minneapolis, and we had family in the Twin Cities area. What was so brave about it?

Now, preparing to move to Bismarck in our fifties, I know better. It is hard to leave the familiar, the comfortable, the secure—the blessings of a community that has been our haven for nearly half our lives, and the only home most of our five children can recall.

We are trying to be brave. It is not easy.

When we arrived here, I was a recent revert, newly confirmed; an adequate husband and father; and a habitual sinner. Jodi was a working mother and the spiritual heart of our family. But just as Father Bill Zink—who listened patiently to my rants and ramblings in Michigan and invited me back to Confession and Communion—became my spiritual father, this community became our spiritual home.

St. Michael has blessed us with a beautiful place of worship, a deeply faithful community, good and holy priests, and grace-filled liturgies and sacraments. We have formed strong friendships that feel like family, and our children have been forged in faith, so that now they challenge us to go deeper, not the other way around.

For my part, St. Michael has given me opportunities I never knew I needed and certainly didn’t deserve. This is the place that called Jodi and I to conversion with regard to married sexuality and family planning, transforming my “sin life” and our marriage. You are the people who nominated me for the Faith Formation Advisory Committee—I still don’t know who or why—and invited me to the Knights of Columbus, Christ Renews His Parish, and the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, each of which taught me to serve and to witness. These are the priests who challenged me in Confession to truly repent and amend my life, and invited Jodi and I to speak to engaged and married couples about our conversion; we never could have imagined sharing our most personal stories in a room full of strangers or the fruits that would bear in them and us.

And this was the parish that invited a communications professional with a degree in anthropology focused in human evolution to serve as faith formation director. (At the time, Archbishop Nienstedt supposedly told Father Richards, “I guess I’ll have to trust you on this.”)

For more than 20 years now, this parish has seen something in me and in our family that we didn’t recognize in ourselves. Today we have a son who is married with three kids, teaching at a Catholic university; a daughter getting married here this month, who works for the same university; a son who is a Franciscan friar; a son just finishing minor seminary; and a youngest daughter who likely would not be here without the pro-family witness of this community.

These are shared accomplishments. I would not be the husband, father, or Christian I am today without you.

Please do not take St. Michael for granted or regard its strength with pride. St. Ignatius advises us to store up consolations for times of desolation. Hard times will come. Work to preserve the legacy of deep faith that is in the very soil and water, stone and wood, of our parish—and don’t forget our mission: Open your arms to sinners and welcome them in, as you did for us.

We have been so blessed by this parish. Thank you. We will miss you all.