as we wrap up, i wanted to put all of the links for the series in one place, so here they are:

• rebuilding after deconstructing (intro)
• 1. honoring the process
• 2. acknowledging losses
• 3. discovering what remains 
• 4. finding what works 
• 5. celebrating what was
• 6. igniting passion
• 7. exploring possibilities
• 8. trusting the path

plus:

• helpful & oh-not-so-helpful things people say during deconstruction
• soul care & spiritual practices for deconstruction
• i used to…but now i…

also, i would love some feedback on areas you’d like to continue to explore related to this topic. there are a couple i already know of in the works: what about the kids? what happens when spouses are in different places completely?  how can we find safe community in new ways?  

what else would you like to process here?  let me know in the comments section.

another question is “now what” for some of you who would like to keep processing through the journey with others who understand in a safe place.  there are all kinds of great things online related to faith shifts & if you have any sites you want to recommend, please do.  related specifically to this conversation, jim fisher started a closed facebook group called “faith under construction” that will be exploring some of these ideas & more online. if you have some pretty big church wounds and think some extra processing might be helpful, maybe you can consider joining our next online walking wounded: hope for those hurt by the church group, hosted at live it to the full (we don’t have an exact date right now but you can email me and i’ll let you know when we get it set).  another great site for those healing from church woundedness is www.churchburned.com, hosted by my friend travis klaussen.

lastly, i thought i’d post a few links to old posts that many of you may not have read before that are centered on this topic.  remember my disclaimer:  i am a work in progress and please don’t hold me to everything i’ve said here over the years.  i haven’t re-read all of these in detail,  but i hope that somehow, someway, anything shared here can bring a little bit of hope on this wild & crazy path of rebuilding after deconstruction.

these are the ones that jumped out at me as i looked back (just some light reading, ha ha):  

• surviving spiritual vertigo - tips for grieving the shift
• jenga faith - our faith is stronger than we might think
• kids & faith: what are we creating? - what happens to the kids when we start slipping off the slope
• we’re in good company - mother teresa had some pretty serious doubts, too.
• doubt & faith series: doubt & faith: the wild beautiful ride, doubt & faith: owning our egocentric tendencies, doubt & faith: new ways for old words, doubt & faith – God, you out there?, doubt & faith -  living in the tension
• praying when you can’t find your prayer beads or have taken the word “quiet time” out of your vocabulary - prayer practices
• a nifty chart for the journey:  stages in the life of faith - the original post about the stages of faith chart
• what’s your score:  a walking wounded quiz - we used this way back in 2007, makes me laugh every time.
• what’s inside the bunny? – rethinking spiritual maturity and unlearning church things that leave us hollow
• home  - the reality of spiritual and emotional homelessness
• practical theology – where is God in my real life?
• serenity & courage – the serenity prayer is so healing! a little exercise to remember what we can change & what we can’t
• actually, the grass is greener - yes, it sure is even though they told me it wasn’t.
• church refugee video series: church refugees – part 1, church refugees – part 2, life outside the bubble, church refugees – part 3, spiritual practices
• rethinking the word christian video series - wrestling with the word “christian”, taking things off the table to get to what’s underneath, going back because there’s nowhere else to go
• paradox - accepting parts of ourselves & others & God that are contradictory
• letting God off the hook - when i stopped blaming God for everything
• a time to – this might be a helpful exercise, it was for me.
• yep, i guess i’m a heretic – i’m thinking some of you are, too.
• linear, never was never will be – some thoughts on hope for change

have a great weekend! peace and courage, kathy

on monday (yeah, i haven’t had a rant in a while):  reframing crazy when it comes to church

the other day when i was driving in my car thinking about this series, an old post that i wrote 3 years ago came to mind.  it’s called “i-used-to-but-now-i”. i thought it actually might be a helpful exercise as part of our conversation on rebuilding after deconstructing because it’s centered on respecting where we were and where we are now.

it’s about recognizing & giving language to some of the new.  it’s honoring shifts and helps us say “here’s what’s changed.”

it’s funny, my list from 2009 is so long, but as i looked through it many things still resonated, although maybe not as important to me today as they were then.  as part of this practice, i decided to make a new list, some are from 3 years ago and there are definitely some new ones, too.  i thought maybe some of you might want to give it a try, too.

my 2012 i used to…but now i’s…:

i used to have a fear-centered faith.  now i have a love-centered one.

i used to think the christian life was one of ascent & i kept feeling like a loser because i couldn’t get there. now i think it looks more like descent & it takes away the pressure.

i used to think church was about getting what i wanted–inspiration & wow.   now i think it’s about getting what i actually need–a place to practice loving & being loved.  

i used to feel the need for things to be black and white and make perfect sense. now i really appreciate the gray & the mystery of the “i don’t knows.”

i used to think people could pull themselves up by their bootstraps & change their lives with enough prayer and hard work. now i see how truly complicated poverty, mental illness, and a host of other problems really are.

i used to think that if i talked about God enough & my kids could regurgitate enough scripture verses i’d be a good parent. now i see our actions are far more important than words.

i used to be two people, one on the outside & one on the inside.  now there’s just one of me, with all my strengths & all my weaknesses.   

i used to read the Bible for knowledge.  now i read it for beauty & challenge.  

i used to never even notice the lack of women and underrepresented groups in church leadership. now i can see and smell it from a mile away.

i used to hold on to everything and so tightly.  now i’m trying to practice a looser grip. 

i used to think the kingdom of God was really really narrow. now i think it’s bigger than i ever imagined.

i used to spend a lot of energy shaking my fists. now i am most interested in planting new trees.  

what are some of your “i used to…but now i’s…?”

i’d love to hear!

as the last few post-series posts, i also wanted to take a little time to center on an oft-overlooked topic in the deconstruction conversation–how do we tend to our souls & our spiritual lives when we’re in the midst of so much upheaval?

sure, many of us might be allergic to some old spiritual practices, but are there new ones that we can try that might help us feel less lonely and disconnected to God in the process? in the same vein, and because they are all tied up together, making sure we are tending to the care of our souls in the process is critically important.

life in the spiritual desert of deconstruction requires water, rest and food, or we will die.

for me, as i made some shifts away from the utter & total absorption in the mega-church i was part of, i found that some of the things that brought me comfort before no longer did.  the Bible felt flat.  worship songs made me go a little nutty.  journaling just felt forced.  i longed for connection with God in the-old-ways-that-used-to-work.  but it just wasn’t working.

then something shifted a bit and i began to let go of feeling like i had to grind down to find something i just couldn’t find.  instead, i tried to let go of the old (and not feel guilty about it) and began to notice God in other places.  i tried to do things that i liked to do, that were good for my soul, that helped me feel rest & peace & connection to God, my soul.

here were some of these soul care & spiritual practices on this bumpy road:

i watched a lot of movies.  for me, almost the best soul care there is.

i took one entire day off from meeting or talking with people in any way, shape or form, period.

my family came up with some weekly rhythms of eating & fun that we all began to honor.  it’s been awesome.

i hiked.

i turned off the radio whenever i drove and put my cell phone in the back seat (i need to start this one back up!)

late night conversations with dear friends around fires & kitchen tables & coffee shops.

i tried to practice the daily examen before i went to sleep or when i was driving alone in the car–where i noticed God in some way, shape or form during each day.

i spent as much time as i could on the lake, which is my second-to-the-beach-favorite-place.

i used the message translation of the Bible & tried not to compare it to the passages i was used to.

i started blogging, a really interesting spiritual practice that i think is helpful in getting comfortable in our own skin.

i read the red letters in the gospels.  

in the last year and a half i started walking every-day-come-rain-or-shine for my back, but now it’s one of my best spiritual practices ever.

what about you?  what are some soul care or spiritual practices that sustained you (or are sustaining you) during deconstruction?  if you’d take time to share in the comments, it really does help others with some ideas.

* * * * *

ps:  i have a post up this week for the monthly column at sheloves magazine centered around down we go: living into the wild ways of Jesus.  it’s called cultivating creativity (check out the video in the comments section, too, it’s awesome and related to this series).  i think that cultivating creativity during the rebuilding process can be so healing & freeing.

tomorrow:  one last little exercise from a post a few years ago that might be helpful in remembering where we were & where we are now.  

almost every hurting person i know has a least a couple of stories of things people-said-and-did to them along the way that really was not helpful.  in fact, it often hurt–sometimes deeply.  simple fixes, trite spiritual phrases, and direct messages about getting-better-quick left many of us feeling more shame, anger, and loneliness.

at the same time, often there are people along the way who offer healing balm for our wounds, who stayed with us in the darkness, who provided love & hope & encouragement in such beautiful tangible ways.   their gifts of peace sustained us.

in my own journey through healing from personal pain and physical pain also through my faith shifts, i have experienced both. i know who and what was good for my soul and i know who and what did more harm.  who i willingly drew closer to and who i avoided with a 10-foot-pole.

i think we’re all pretty clear by now that the deconstructing-rebuilding process is a messy, painful journey, not only for us but sometimes for those around us, too.  and we all have stories of things that people said-and-did along the way that helped us and may have also hurt us.

the purpose of this series was to provide some hope & a loose framework for fellow sojourners. my hope was also to create a space to say out loud some things that needed to be said so that we could learn how to navigate through this process ourselves–and with others–better.

as an appendix to the last 2 weeks of posts together centered on rebuilding after deconstructing, i’d love to create two lists that we can share with the world:

1. a list of things people said and did during the bloody messy deconstruction process that helped, soothed, encouraged, and strengthened us.  

2. and a list of ones that were oh-so-not helpful.  it can become the top 10 please-don’t-ever-say-this-to-people-in-the-deconstruction-process.

i’m going to compile all of the responses into something cohesive as part of this series so i really hope you’ll take a few minutes and participate.  this is a time to honor what worked and be painfully honest about what didn’t.  a time to celebrate the good & let it rip on the bad.

here are mine, the helpful & the oh-not-so-helpful things people said to me during deconstruction:

helpful:

#1, without a doubt – when people just listened & didn’t offer any advice.

“it’s really hard”

“i’m with you no matter what”

“oh, i know that feeling”

“i care about you, not just your beliefs”

oh-not-so-helpful:

“when are you going to stop being so bitter?”

“i’m scared for you” 

“i have a sermon that you really need to listen to.”

“the church is made up of imperfect people–what do you expect?”

“my church is so awesome! you’d really like it”

“you’ve got to be careful of the slippery slope.”

i know some of you have much more painful ones than these.  please, share them freely.  others need to know how nuts it can be.

what about you? what helped?  what hurt?  thanks for sharing.

my hope is that we can all keep learning how to be safer for others along the way.

* * * * *

ps: i just got back from chicago and a lovely weekend in conversation centered around sacred friendship.   i met so many wonderful people & it brings me so much hope, these conversations about men and women learning how to love & live & learn & lead alongside one another as equals, as friends.  alise wright blogged a recap each day, and you can read them here and here.  if you are new to this blog and haven’t read anything yet about friendship here, i have a list of posts on the bottom of the past series page.

next here:  soul care & spiritual practices that sustained us during deconstruction 

but my hope for this series was always that we could get all of the posts out there in one big swoop and then over time, people would be able to access them as they needed over time.  i have been blown away by the responses & emails & ways that people have shared what this has stirred up.  there are so many of us out here finding our way.

it reminds me of part of a cheryl lawrie piece i love that’s on the refuge website (she’s a prison chaplain in australia & all of her stuff rocks):

ezekial 37, again

you do not give up on the broken and the lost

you do not give up on the fractured or the shattered or the dying or the dead

you do not give up on the fearful or the hateful or the impossible

you do not give up when there is no heartbeat left or no heart at all

you do not give up you do not leave us for dead

thank god.

yeah, we are not left for dead.

some people might give up on us.

but God doesn’t.

there is so much hope for us.

a huge sign of life is that we are actually still in, trying to talk about this hard stuff..  people may criticize us and call us lost or angry or a host of other adjectives, but the beautiful thing is that we’re still in, trying to find our way toward God.  that, in itself, is a miracle (especially considering what some of you have gone through).  i also know some of you haven’t had painful church experiences but just “grew up.” i would say the same thing to you–it’s glorious that you are wrestling with cultivating a more free faith despite the costs.

as we wrap up, here’s a quick recap of the major movements of the rebuilding process:

rebuilding after deconstructing - there are many ways we find ourselves on this scary, weird, unexpected path, but our stories probably have many of the same threads–doubt, emptiness, loneliness, sadness, fear, anger, and confusion.

honoring the process - growth and change in our faith journey is often labeled as rebellion, divisiveness, and heresy, when really it is just maturity trying to emerge.  as we honor the stages of our faith, we find strength.

acknowledging losses - there’s a helluva lot of grief in this process, and it is so helpful to acknowledge what we’ve lost and allow ourselves to feel the real feelings of grief.

discovering what remains - when we are deconstructing and can’t hold to some of our old beliefs anymore we need to work to discover what is left when it comes to our faith, what’s still there that brings hope.

finding what works - finding what works is about experimenting with different practices and ways of being that create life, passion, and connection with God.

celebrating what was - celebrating the good parts of our past helps us honor what was and actively move toward what is and what could be.

igniting passion - as we keep moving, we begin to find purpose, meaning, and ways to channel our hearts & energy & time in directions that bring life & hope.

exploring possibilities -  even though it’s often scary to re-engage, there are ways to find new forms of safe community & connection with other people of hope.

what’s next?  it’s trusting the path, remembering we’re not lost.

in fact, we’re on a path toward a free-er relationship with God, others, ourselves.

i was reminded of these passages this morning:

“can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love? does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death?…and I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.  (romans 8:35, 38, NLT).

even though people around us might worry about our souls, i hope we can trust that our souls are not in danger by engaging in a deconstruction process.  i’m pretty sure God is plenty big enough to hack this and love us through it.    

and that’s my overall hope for all of us in these shifts that we’re making–that somehow, some way, we’d experience and trust God’s love for us more deeply, clearly, fully and become more secure in it.   i think that’s always been the idea.  the world doesn’t need more, fear-filled insecure christians, it needs more peace-filled, secure ones.

deconstructing can make us insecure, less sure of so many things. and even though it’s true that we might be less certain about a lot of peripheral things, my experience has been that if we stay with the process we emerge much more secure in God’s love for us, our neighbors, the world.  

we actually become more secure in the end. 

we can discover that less is more. 

that in our weakness we are strong.

that we don’t have to “know it all” or prove it all. 

that a simple faith can be a stronger faith. 

that we are loved, really loved, just as we are.

yeah, i have seen over and over again how this path leads to life, not death, if we keep walking.  the road is scary & bumpy & freaky and many people may tell us we’ll be eaten by wild animals or sucked into quicksand on the way.  the more i walk it & see others walk it, too,  the more clear i feel that it’s a good road.  a secure road.  a road-worth-traveling-so-we-can-keep-growing-loving-learning-and-becoming-more-free-in-the-good-and-wild-ways-of-Jesus.

let’s keep being brave.

we are not alone.

we are not crazy.

God is with us.  he’ll never leave us for dead.

we’re in the midst of resurrection.

* * * * *

ps:  even if you don’t normally comment, it would be so great if you’d be willing to share in this thread what this series has stirred up in you, the good, the bad & the ugly.  it is so helpful to all of us in different ways, to hear a wide range of experiences.

coming next week:  things people said & did that helped you in this process (and those that were oh-so-not-helpful) + practices that sustained you during deconstruction.  i hope you can contribute.  we need to make some good lists!

thanks for reading.  your stories bring me more hope than you’ll ever know. peace, kathy

the other posts from the past 2 weeks are listed here.  

* * * * *

one of the hardest parts about writing a series this-packed-full-of-intensity is that everyone is in a different place.  some of us have already found our way & feel free-er than we’ve ever felt before.  others are only beginning to realize we’re at the wall  & don’t know what the $^$&#@ it might mean for the future.  others are worn out & tired & feel really “done” at the moment and really don’t want to talk about this right now.

i say this as yet another warning when reading this post. for some of you, you’re just not ready to think about new possibilities yet.  please know the last thing i want to do is make people feel pressured.  we don’t all have to be at the place of being ready to “explore possibilities.” this shifting process take time; it’s important to not rush and expect ourselves to get to some imaginary finish line fast.  that will mess our heads and hearts up even more.  so as you’re reading today, know that it’s totally okay if you’re not in this particular space at the moment.

but some people are. 

one of the hardest things for many deconstructors to do is to plug back into some form of community.  see, even saying that word is making a few of you have an allergic reaction!  the thought of risking again, trusting again, trying again, engaging again just feels too overwhelming.  you’ve been there, done that, and so why bother.

i totally get that.

but it might help if we begin to widen our view of what community & connection might look like.   as we do that, we can begin to explore possibilities.  

community & connection with other people of hope might look like:

re-attaching to a safe church–or never darkening the door of a church again but finding hope through a small cluster of friends dedicated to each other.  

joining a group and remaining firmly on the fringes–or trying to plug in and serve again, with eyes wide open and hearts a little more aware. 

being part of something that doesn’t have a lick to do with anything overtly spiritual–or finding a clearly sacred place for intentional spiritual practices. 

working with people directly connected to our newly-ignited passion–or in a completely different context.  

part of rebuilding & renewal is an openness to new possibilities for community & connection.

there are a few things to be aware of as we explore new possibilities:

it has to be when we’re ready, not when someone else thinks we should be.  this is so important!

experiments help.  i’m a big fan of “let’s try this and see what it feels like.”  we can enter into some of these experiences more loosely & not hold ourselves to feeling like we have to commit to anything.  i love the idea of “for this next season i’m going to experiment with…” and then have a time to evaluate how it went, how it felt, what it opened us up to.

we don’t have to give all our power away again.  it’s okay to be part of stuff without being “all in”.  it’s okay to disagree with some things but be okay with others.  it’s okay to guard our hearts and at the same time open them a little.  it’s okay to be skeptical about leadership & power but still take part. it doesn’t make us cynical; it makes us wise.

let go of old definitions of “church”.  if we hold on to old preconceptions, it will really hijack possibilities, especially if we’re toast when it comes to typical systems.   small or big, formal or informal, regular or sporadic, christian or non-christian, there are all kinds of ways to be with other people and be part of “church.”

listen to triggers but be careful about making quick decisions based on them.  part of our maturity is developing listening skills for our gut feelings of what is really going on.  as we explore new possibilities for connection & community, we need to better listen to the Holy Spirit-working-in-us.  at the same time, when we’ve been in toxic systems or are still really raw, every little thing can feel triggering.  it’s easy to say “well, we’re for sure not ready to explore new possibilities yet” and even though that could be true, it can also be true that we’re really sensitive about certain things (for good reason).  i never want to say “ignore the triggers and push through” but i do want to say “explore your triggers and don’t make reflex decisions based on them.”  talk about it with safe friends, get wise input.

ease in, don’t rush.  sometimes when we’re lonely & desperate & tired and long so deeply for connection and stability again, we can dive in too fast, too hard. don’t. it’s not good for us.  take time to live on the fringes a little.  don’t volunteer for too much too soon.  trust that healthy systems & groups & people won’t be in a hurry.

overall, when considering new possibilities to explore, i really like the words “practice” and “try.”  they’ve helped me become a little more balanced and not so black-and-white.  these words help us remember we don’t need everything mastered or figured out or buttoned down; rather, we can do our best to show up, engage as best we can for the moment, and continue to learn, adjust, re-evaluate, and grow.

over time, may our hearts be open to new possibilities.

what are some new possibilities you are trying (or want) to explore? 

* * * * *

tomorrow:  the wrap, whew! –  trusting the path.

here we are, at part 6 of this crazy-intense series on rebuilding our faith after deconstructing.  the previous posts are introduction, 1. honoring the process 2. acknowledging losses 3. discovering what remains  4. finding what works  5. celebrating what was.  

* * * * *

the idea of this series is to provide a loose framework & practices for the big themes of rebuilding.  for some, it’s challenging & stirring up hard stuff. for others, it’s hopeful and brings relief.  for others, it’s just plain annoying because the thought of rebuilding anything is too difficult right now.  may we honor that we’re all in different places and integrate this material in ways that work for us.

the deconstruction process can often feel like dying.  because it is.  old parts of our spiritual life need to die so that new ones can emerge.  what i appreciate about seasons (even though i’d love to live on a beach where it’s perpetually summer) is that we need winter for spring to emerge.  dying-winter-grief can feel so dark, ugly, painful and cold but if we hang in & hang on, new life can rise out of the ashes, buds can start to form on bleak, stark limbs.

a core piece of rebuilding is beginning to resurrect parts of us that have been lost, squelched, stifled, ignored, unvalued over the years. 

we can’t think our way into a new life, but we can live our way into a new life.  part of rebuilding is really somehow about our souls being “born again.”

and this requires getting in touch with what brings us life, what ignites our passion.

this stage of rebuilding is different from “finding what works” because that is centered on discovering new ways to connect with God.  igniting passion is about finding purpose, meaning, and ways to channel our hearts & energy & time in directions that bring life & hope. 

in stage 3, the productive life, before we hit the wall & things began to disintegrate, serving was about doing, working, contributing to toward a system in need of helpers.  igniting passion is part of the transition from stage 4′s messy painful journey inward to stage 5, the journey outward.  it’s where we begin to serve & love & live with much greater freedom–out of passion instead of duty. 

we all have some kind of dream–things we’d like to do, build, try, be-a-part of, live out.

these can be little things, big things. “church” things, not-clearly-related-to-church things. exciting things, simple things.

regardless, part of a renewed faith is acknowledging our passion & desire those “things” and stepping into them somehow, someway, without having to ask for permission.

a sad part about many of our church experiences is that unless our passions “somehow serve the system” many haven’t been encouraged or nurtured (i always say churches have made handing-out-programs-at-church sound like the greatest spiritual gift ever!).  there is so much beauty & hope & passion & wildness & glory waiting to be uncovered as people are set free to live, serve, love in whatever ways God is calling.

also, please try to hold on to this:  having passions & hopes & dreams are not selfish, no matter what people or churches may have told you.

God’s image is best reflected in his people, fully alive.

as we thaw out our hearts and find our way, it’s important to get in touch with what lights our fire:

what do we love to do?

who or what do we care about?

what gets our juices flowing when we start talking about it?

then the question is:  how can we fan that flicker of passion into a brighter flame?

it’s not all-inclusive but it seems like a lot of our passions fall into these 3 primary categories (they overlap a lot, too, and i’m sure there are many other areas of passion but it seems like so many come back to these).

many of us are passionate about:

love. we care about loving people, presence, caring, serving, being Christ’s hands and feet, reflecting God’s image in hard places, restoring dignity.

justice. we are advocates and care about causes.  we want to change systems, stand on behalf of the oppressed, raise awareness, and make what’s wrong right.

beauty. we care about beauty, nature, creativity & the arts and the power of it to heal & restore & inspire & uncover God’s image in ourselves & other people.

some of us have already found ways to live out our passion.  the flame has been lit and the fire’s roaring.  others of us may feel more scared to step out because we know it will be without the support & encouragement of the systems we used to be (or are still) part of. others are somewhere in between and not quite sure yet; any kind of passion still feels buried pretty deep.

regardless of where we each find ourselves, part of rebuilding faith is igniting our passions–ones buried underneath a lot of rubble or ones recently discovered.

passions don’t have to look like starting new nonprofits, planting churches, adopting kids, writing a book, or moving to africa tomorrow (although they most certainly can!)  they can also look like taking a class we’ve always wanted to take, volunteering at a nonprofit that does work we care about, learning something we’ve always wanted to learn, doing something we’ve always wanted to do but haven’t because we’ve been too busy at church. it can be stepping out in any small way that feels like movement toward life instead of standing still.

the best way we can participate in bringing change & hope & goodness to this world is to live instead of die.  try something instead of nothing.  fan a flicker into flame instead of letting it be snuffed out.

what are some passions that are starting to ignite for you (or that you hope will)? 

* * * * *

tomorrow, the second-to-last part: 7. exploring possibilities

it was part of the process.

as we continue to move toward greater hope & life & freedom in our faith, it’s really important to not dismiss or reject or remain bitter about the past but instead find ways to celebrate what was as we actively move toward what is and what could be. (one side note:  when spiritual abuse was part of the equation, we aren’t supposed to celebrate that. that is in another category completely).  i’m talking about parts of our journey that we have since moved past but deserve to be honored somehow so we can not be-so-pissed-off-about-them-all-the-time.

for me, here are some things that i want to respect, honor, and celebrate from my past:

i learned so much about the Bible during those years.  almost all of the scriptures that i know & love & still bring me hope come from those times of intense learning and study.

i gained respect for rules, boundaries, and what it meant to submit to some kind of authority. i wasn’t raised like that, and even though some of it was wacky, the basics of having a structure & framework for living was what i needed in my early adult years. 

i discovered what gathering regularly with other people looked & felt like. i had never been part of any consistent groups before i became a christian and started going to bible studies and small groups.   it instilled in me a deep desire for intention and community.  

the comfort of being with others-who-believed-just-like-me was really healing, especially when i  desperately needed to feel more secure and protected because of my family of origin.  it helped me when i needed it most.  now, i don’t need that kind of security anymore.  

i made a lot of amazing friends along the way.  some of them think i’ve gone off the deep end but many others still love me and we remain connected despite differing practices & beliefs. 

some of our good-christian-parenting-practices weren’t all bad.  in fact, i am grateful for many of them.  (yes, we were growing kids God’s way-ers; sarah & megan, i know you’re cringing right now!)  of course, i am in a totally different place now but the truth is that a few things from that season were good and have helped jose and i in parenting all these kids.  

the inspiration helped me for a while.   during that season, the wow-factor drew me in & stirred my soul & made me want to connect with God. even though it out-wore its welcome, it had its place.  

there are others, but those are a few off the top of my head.

another way to frame this is to consider a gratitude list related to what was. do what works for you, how works for you, but it does seem like gratitude heals.

i could reframe a few of mine to say:  “i’m grateful for what i learned about the Bible during those years” or “i am grateful for boundaries, rules, and structures that i needed during that season of my life.”

this step  of “celebrating what was” isn’t about looking at the past through rose-colored-glasses or stirring up false memories to feel better about things or forcing ourselves to go where we just can’t go.  please don’t feel pressure to do this right now if you’re just not ready & you find yourself feeling icky about it.    

it’s about remembering that where we were was part of our story.  these experiences shaped and formed us into who we are today. good, bad, or ugly, these things were part of our faith journey with God and where we are today.  this practice is a little like “discovering what remains”.  instead of always thinking of all of the negative-things-we-wish-weren’t-part-of-our-experience, it’s about focusing on the good.  it’s about honoring the past for what it was, and the good parts that it did indeed bring to our faith, our growth, our development as people.

it helps to celebrate what was so we can leave it behind in a better place as we begin to nurture and enjoy what is and what could be.   

what might you need to celebrate about “what was”?

* * * * *

tomorrow: igniting passion

also, my blog friend lisa delay is hosting a series related to spiritual guidance for blogging.  she asked me to participate and here’s what i shared:  be yourself. everyone else is taken.  really, it’s not just for blogging but for all of us.  how can we become more comfortable in our own skin?  that will be the work of our lives, and for me, blogging is just one way to work on it.  check it out at her site.

* * * * *

every wednesday night at our house we have a “house of refuge”.  it’s a wild, diverse & open group that’s been meeting since the refuge started in 2006.  we share a meal & spiritual conversation lead by a different person each week (i call it “spiritual show and tell”). it’s so fun (and wacky, too). a few years ago, a friend shared at our group a significant truth from alcoholics anonymous that i have never forgotten.  she has a lot of sobriety and has helped many others along the way.  she shared that when it comes to getting sober, people need to do “whatever works” (that doesn’t harm or hurt ourselves or anyone else).

desperate circumstances require desperate measures.  whatever works means finding something that keeps us sober so that we can get some healing underneath our belt and get on more solid ground.

these words have lingered, and as someone who journeys with a lot of hurting people related to life & faith, i use it all the time.

when we are in a battle to rebuild our faith, we need to do whatever works.

when we’re tired, hurting, and confused, we can’t worry about spiritual technicalities and what other people deem as must-have-beliefs-or-practices-that-”count” as spiritual enough.  these are things that got a lot of us into trouble in the first place.

from what i can tell, God is not a God of technicalities. 

people are.  but God’s not.

God is bigger than our boxes–and other people’s boxes, too.  

part of rebuilding our faith requires finding ways to connect with God & our souls that make us come more alive. 

finding what works is about experimenting with practices and ways of being that create life, passion, and connection.  God is in those places, even if none of these areas seem overtly “spiritual” in the weird & limiting ways we have been taught to define it.  we must keep bridging the divide between the sacred and the secular and respect that God is always present–revealing, stirring, challenging, reminding, healing, inspiring, convicting, loving.

i realize some of your evangelometers might be going off right now, flashing “warning, warning–whatever works is dangerous, whatever works is dangerous.”  but on this rebuilding & renewal process, i am going to firmly say that i think any connection with God is better than no connection with God.  technicalities, forced-practices, and assuming that God needs our “perfect” ideas about the Bible, typical church, and certain specifics in order to show up will wreck our rebuilding because it’s just far too limiting.

remember my friend’s sharing–when people are getting sober, they need to find whatever works.  it’s not forever.  over time, those-in-recovery will have to do all kinds of other things & participate in all kinds of other practices that don’t feel great as part of our healing. as people of faith, people renewing our faith, whatever works won’t work forever.  there are many times we will need to engage in different practices we don’t like in order to grow.

just not right now.

some of those practices almost ruined us so we can’t expect them to bring us life today.  during the time of trying to find our way back to God & hope & faith & more secure ground, i strongly and firmly believe we need to start with whatever works.

here are some of the ways “whatever works” can look:

what makes us feel alive?  what makes us feel loved?  what are we passionate about?  do those, do those, do those.  try not to evaluate its spiritual-depth but just enjoy the feelings of connection & hope.  

there are lots of ways to connect with God .  this exercise is really freeing, check it out if you haven’t already.   

if reading the Bible freaks us out right now, put it on the shelf and find something else to read that is inspiring and challenging.  

if we miss the Bible and want to try to open it again, do, and allow ourselves the practice of reading it for its beauty instead of study or in any way that inspires & challenges.   

if connecting with God as father is jacking us up, consider another aspect of God’s character and image that does bring life (i often ask–what part of God do you want to connect with, do you really need right now & start there. a lot of people say Jesus as my friend but there are a lot of aspects of God to work with!).

practice soul care – rest, play, fun, art, music, movies, beauty.  when our souls are nurtured & strengthened & find rest and peace, God is there.  (i meet God at the movies almost every time). 

go to the social hour at church & visit with people you love…then leave when they start preaching or singing or whatever-might-cause-an-allergic-reaction.

dig down and find what feels helpful to us, not what we see someone else doing or think we “should” be doing.  keep asking–what helps?  what helps us feel more alive, more human, more awake?

for me, one of the most sustaining pieces of my faith journey has been sticking with what makes my heart come alive–people.  community & connection & conversations have been my “whatever works” and have kept me tethered to God.  i am often criticized for not being spiritual-enough, biblical-enough, christian-enough.  but i don’t care because people have kept my faith alive.

and i’m pretty sure that’s enough for God.

it’s certainly enough for me.

what’s “working” for you right now?

* * * * *

tomorrow:  celebrating what was 

here are the first 3 posts:

• intro – rebuilding after deconstruction
  
• 1. honoring the process
• 2. acknowledging losses

* * * * *

when our idea of our own faith goes downward, so many things can look different–the bible, the creeds, and all kinds of things that we were told we had to have as a believer. this will leave us feeling very lost sometimes.

one of the things that gives us the most trouble is that we have been taught that in order to “belong” we needed to “believe.”  so when we aren’t quite sure what we believe anymore, we can definitely feel like we have nowhere to belong.

recently i did a little exercise by researching things that were written on typical christian statements of faith.  warning:  don’t do it!  it’s rough out there and so many different groups have their different opinions on what qualifies as being “the right kind of belief to belong.”

while i value the centering premises of creeds & statements of faith because they help orient people around common beliefs, i also think they can be very limiting, especially for those who find themselves on the fringes.

the first part of rebuilding our faith after losing some of it is to discover what remains. 

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.

when i look at Jesus’ ministry, i do not see him sitting all of these new followers down and making them sign doctrinal statements of faith.  the one requirement seemed to be an open heart toward him.  

i’m reminded of the first beatitude here, blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 5:3).

sometimes, to protect ourselves from the pain of deconstruction, we close our heart to God because it hurts too much.

part of rebuilding does require an open heart; i don’t think we have to fling it open for God but we need to somehow open it at least a little.  a practice we can do to help us open our heart is “discover what remains”, no matter how simple or complicated.

it seems like Jesus summarized a heck of a lot of teaching into: love God, love others as yourself.  

i’ve yet to see a doctrinal statement that said “we are committed to trying to live these simple-but-hard-to-actually-do tenets out as best we can.”

i believe, more than ever, that God doesn’t seem to have the same lists men make.

when we are deconstructing and can’t hold to some of our old beliefs anymore, the biggest question that remains is:  what might be left when it comes to our faith?

what’s something we still believe in, no matter how big or small?

what’s something that hasn’t been lost or taken away?

what’s something that still brings us hope?

what part of our faith still remains?

what do we still trust about God or Jesus or the Holy Spirit or all three no matter how simple?

for me, something that has sustained me deeply is that God is Emmanuel, with me, with us, and will never leave or forsake me. that has carried me through many a dark night.

years ago at our house of refuge the person facilitating asked us to think of the “one thing” that when it was all said & done we held on to when it came to our faith.  for the conversation, he used this film clip:

when it comes to finding what remains, “one thing” looks different for each of us.  some of us need much more than one.  for others of us, realizing we actually still have one can bring hope.

an important part of this step is to remember is it’s not bad to still believe a lot of things that others may have let go of.

and it’s also not bad to let go of some of the things that others still hold on to.

i really love the refuge’s “what we believe (so far)”; it’s got more than one thing on it but as i read through them, they resonate deeply.

part of our own personal work requires excavating through all of the rubble to find what still remains.  to center on what is still part of our faith, no matter how big or small, instead of only focusing on what isn’t.  

people around us might not be able to hack this kind of excavation and stripping-away-so-much-of-what-was, but i believe God can.

i still think it’s quite amazing what God seems to do with just a little.

discovering what remains is a critical part of rebuilding our faith. it can be as simple or complex as it needs to be, but i think it’s helpful to try to find it.

and own it. at least for now.

what remains for you that brings you hope?

* * * * *

next, on monday:  finding what works  

tomorrow i have a guest post up as part of ed cyzewski’s series on women in ministry. i’ll link to it once it’s up so you hopefully can go over there read it.  it makes me smile whenever i think of it, it’s called “well-behaved women won’t change the church”.  i hope that makes some of you smile, too.