A church you could bear
We stayed with the blues and Francie, sensing a vein of covenant, sang in her scratchiest aching voice (the reason we cajoled her into the band to start with), and it began to resemble what I once imagined church might be like —a church you could bear — where people laughed and enjoyed each other and did not care if they were right all the time or if other people were wrong.
Leif Enger, 2024, from the novel I Cheerfully Refuse