Sometimes “I’ll be there” is just hitting play on the same show at the same time, states apart. After the kids are in bed, while the toys are still strewn about and there is so much work to be done Sometimes sitting with your feelings Is texting “CARL is the worst” And “OMG WHAT IS HAPPENING” back and forth because this is what gets you to bedtime, to tomorrow morning, to tomorrow afternoon to “ok, hit play…NOW” again And eventually the series ends and the bad thing has gotten a little less bad and you have survived. And, for today, the only casualties are the made up people on the made up show.
Another assignment from the writing class. The assignment was to write a letter to a former version of ourselves.
Dear Middle School Me,
It’s 1997, and you’re at that awkward stage. Fortunately you have no idea, because your friends are right there with you, so it all feels normal. These friends you’ve known since you were 5 years old serve as a bit of a buffer, and you’ll always be grateful for that. You can’t know this yet, but in a few years some of their views will change in regard to God. You won’t understand it at first, but you’ll try. Because, while this evangelical world is made for a compliant, straight human like yourself— it is not made for them. They’re starting to figure this out, and they don’t know how to tell anyone.
You started writing when you were little, and you wrote because it was fun and made for a great outlet. You didn’t know that second part then, but now you do. Remember when you were 10 and you were writing poems about hell? That was fun. At 37 you’re still very chill and have evolved to writing poems about the downfall of evangelicalism. I know, I know. This is shocking.
In your 30’s you won’t have as much time for writing, or thinking for that matter. Life will move faster than you could have ever imagined, and won’t show signs of slowing down. You’ll learn to offer yourself and others a lot of grace. You’ll start writing a book, with no intention of it ever seeing the light of day. You’ll use Jars of Clay lyrics as chapter titles, and you’ll get so excited about that part that you’ll forget about the “writing the rest of it” part.
Back to 13 year old you, us, me. You’re going to spend the next few years being taught a lot of things about God and the church, and theology, and values. You’ll believe them with everything in you. As you get older, you’ll start to see behind the veil a bit and you’ll wrestle with what parts to hold on to and what parts to let go of. It seems you’ll spend your life learning what it means to hold on to the good. You’ll look back and know that you were loved, you were kept safe, and you were given room to be who you wanted to be. A lot of others won’t have had this experience within the church, some of them within the church you’ve loved so much since you can remember.
In 2001, the world will feel unrecognizable for a moment, and in 2020 it will happen again. Actually, that will start in 2016. I won’t ruin the surprise for you, but it’s a doozy. In the moments where things don’t make sense, you’re going to want to run, to shut down. Instead, you’ll turn to writing— the thing that helped you when you were 10, and 13, and 16. The thing that saved you when you first experienced evangelical heartbreak at 20 is going to be the thing you keep turning to.
That’s all for now. Go enjoy your BOP magazine while listening to your new All-4-One cassette tape. Who knows why you were allowed to purchase it. Most likely because your parents are very tired from parenting you those first 12 years. The bad years are behind you now though, so they’re pretty lucky.
I originally created this website to keep track of travels, but with 2020 putting those on hold it looks like it’s going to be a space to keep track of all the things. Essays, poetry, photos, and travel when that’s safe and fun again – it’s all part of the journey. This is an essay I wrote for a writing class I took part in this year.
In my twenties I started asking a lot of questions about faith. I had been taught a lot about God, but there had been very little room for questioning. I mean, when I was young I casually asked a teacher “Did Jesus ever get married?” and quickly found out we just don’t ask questions like that.
As I started letting myself question things, I found some people online who seemed to be doing the same. The most important find at that point in my life was Rachel Held Evans. I watched as she wrestled with faith, gained followers, continued to wrestle, gained haters, and continued thinking, searching, and questioning. She did this publicly and I hope she knew what a gift this was to the world. Rachel was the writer I needed to read, and when she got sick in 2019, my first thought was “She’ll be ok. She’s not done.” I only ever had one very quick interaction with her at an event, but when she passed away it shook me. It was tragic and senseless, and I wondered “Who will continue her work?” Now, years later, I find myself writing for the questioner, the one who isn’t ready to walk away from Jesus, but is done with the evangelicalism we were raised under. Rachel was the writer I needed— and still need. If my writing could do anything to help others the way hers helped me, then I would consider it a success.
Here are the 5 stages of questioning that I found (and still find) myself walking through, and I assume I’m not alone in a many of these:
The Secret Questioning I can remember very specific moments in my life where I heard someone say something I’d heard 100 times, but instead of simply hearing it and moving on, I stopped and thought “wait, that’s not true.” In these moments you don’t speak up right away, maybe not for years. You simply start letting yourself think about whether or not these beliefs are true.
Quiet Research The questions aren’t going away, and you’re coming up with new ones pretty regularly at this point. This is the stage where you order books, read blog posts, and scour the Bible to see if these things you’ve always been taught are true. You’re still too scared to talk about it out loud, but you continue searching for answers. You’re sitting in the same groups of people, having the same conversations, but starting to see the cracks.
Whispered Musings You’ve drawn some conclusions and you subtly seek out others who might understand. This is the stage where you quietly let people hear your thoughts, and hope they don’t walk away. You make little statements and see what you get in return. If you’re me, you drop it if there’s pushback. If you’re braver than me, you push it and force the discussion every now and then. This is the stage where you start seeing the light come through the cracks.
Living in Between You go to a Community church now. Sure, this church is definitely a Baptist one in disguise, BUT IT SAYS COMMUNITY. You’ve drawn conclusions through your research that differ from the things many of the believers who surround you believe.
You’re living in between. You feel comfortable here with your worship music and your friends, while also feeling like you’re from another planet. There are people at this church who are on the same wavelength as you, and you continue side conversations with them, but largely you’re a deconstructed person living in the world you’ve always known.
Zero Effs Left I haven’t reached this one yet, but I feel myself moving closer. Some days I wake up here. I look at the others who are living in the land of ZERO EFFS, and they seem so free. I think this stage usually comes fully when we finally realize that we gain much more than we lose by living in the freedom of knowing who we are and who we believe God is. In this stage, you barely notice the cracks anymore – you’ve finally opened the damn windows, and the light is pouring in.
I believe there really is a freedom in Christ, but we have really lost sight of how to obtain it. I look forward to writing more here, and hope it can be helpful for others along the way.
In my early 30’s I found myself in a state of wanting whatever season I was in to be over so I could know how it all turned out. Not a discontentment with where I was so much as a desire to know everything would turn out ok, and if it wasn’t going to, I wanted to go ahead and know that too. It was very healthy, I know.
As I became aware of this about myself, I tried to draw some conclusions about why I might be that way. Simply, I think that the memories of events or times in our life often come with the beauty of resolution. Good or bad, we know the outcome and there are fewer unknowns to contemplate. I’ve had to actively allow myself to release the anxiety of wanting this moment to be over, in order to fully appreciate it right now.
Being in a pandemic it’s really easy to wish away this moment or this year. But, quite honestly, this is the one time that I feel like it makes complete sense. Nonetheless, I’m trying not to wish away this time. I can look back on moments in the last several years, often while traveling or having a good conversation with a friend, when I truly felt calm and peaceful with a sense of “this is the thing I want to remember – this feeling, in this moment”. Having those times to look back on has been so beneficial to my mental well-being in the now. I’m stressed and anxious, yet also grateful for, what felt like perfect moments. I feel sadness for our current moment, while finding small moments of joy and hope for the future.
For years I also had a tough time finding contentment in my singleness. I had a job, paid my bills, and no longer lived with my parents, but marriage hadn’t happened which was the thing I was supposed to have reached by then. I realized at some point that my dissatisfaction had to do with shame of not having reached the milestones I’d been raised to believe would signify success. I changed how I viewed my own goals in life, what success would look like for me, and really started trying to live in the current season and enjoy it. And it was a blast. I traveled and I spent time with friends. With no children of my own, I put that energy into spoiling my best friend from college’s children, my fake nephews, if you will. There are still down times, the ones that come with life, but they stopped correlating to whether or not I reached other people’s goals for my life.
I realized I was fine being single, and my discontentment came from thinking I somehow didn’t deserve that. I realized this season of life, one that may or may not change, gave me opportunities and gifts that I hadn’t stopped to consider before. And, I realized that I needed to stop letting my desire for resolution cause me to wish away the journey.
You spoke up – they yelled to drown you out Their red face, clenched fists Creating confusion and doubt You were loud – they were just louder You were strong – but they held the power You’re still here – you’ll scale the tower There’ll be hell to pay as you remember You’ll stand up and let your strengths be The rocks to shatter their faulty thinking Get loud, then louder, use that rage Throw those rocks, take the stage You’re strong enough, you always have been No longer silenced, your voice, your weapon You’ll stand tall, and take on this fight Demand what’s hidden step into the light
Gather around, the men are here to speak Open up your ears, they’re here to lead To teach you all the ways in which God made you weak To remind you they know best, but also they can’t seem To find the strength to resist your very femininity
It seems their job is to protect you From your own idea that you have worth, While also being sure you know It’s for them you walk this earth
For them to stare, to lurk, to prey To blame you when you don’t get away What did you wear, how did you walk? Why did you dare exist at all In the space outside, where the men walk tall Don’t you know they need you to remain small?
