I'm blogging through Kathy Escobar's fantastic series, Rebuilding after Deconstructing, in an effort to clarify some things for myself, to share my story, and to encourage forward motion. This is so not about whining or placing blame, or picking on any person or institution. Just the story of God and me, up to now... abridged.
See also Deconstruction, the wall and the journey inward: part I, the wall and the journey inward: part II, and loss
I talk more about what I don't know than what I know. You know? :) Honestly, it's a lot easier to tear down than to build up. This is where the building up begins.
Today, I'm thinking about what I do know; what I haven't lost. Here's what I think remains for me:
- prayer. I can't imagine a day without it. Not really a structured kind, more of a meditative, talk-to-your-heart, listen, breathe kind of thing. Some of the prayers I say often are I will not live with anger in my heart, I will not be afraid of what people think of me, I will not hide my face from you, Oh God, and most recently just I am here. God is here. And then just naming who God is to me, who I know him to be. He brings clarity. He comforts. He understands. He is freshness and light and newness. I'm less likely to give him credit for the bad stuff these days. I'm redefining to my fickle, distrusting, wounded heart who my God really is. That's actually what I think my whole process of deconstruction has been about.
- words. This one just occurred to me. I still have the gift of words. I have beautiful old songs that speak to me, and poetry, and there are passages of Scripture that don't make my heart hurt. (One day I hope that none of them will, we'll see.) But I have a huge collection of words that soothe, heal and inspire.
- community. I have dear people in my life that I can be real with. That is no small thing.
- a sense of awe. It's not gone. When I hear stories of restoration, when I see beautiful things, when I talk about my experience with the divine and see that spark of recognition in another person's eyes--I am full of awe. God is bigger than I can make sense of.
- Jesus. I have had moments where I'm full of doubt and fear, where I go to church and feel like I don't speak the language anymore and what was once familiar is now bizarre, but I love Jesus, and I continue to feel his kindness. I get to hold onto that.
often, we think it’s all gone because it feels that way. but if we dig down deep, we discover that there are remnants of our faith left. parts that still are alive. parts that can’t be taken away.