It has been four years since my faith bubble burst and I began my journey into the wilderness.
Four long years of deconstructing what I actually believe.
Four years of questions why I do the things I do.
Four years of doubts if this makes sense at all.
Many months of anger at people, the church, God himself.
Many months of loneliness when I just couldn’t go back in there.
Many months of exhaustion when I was about to give up.
Many months of fear if it would always be this way – uncertain, tiring, grey.
Yesterday I spoke with a friend about our journeys and she said: “If I had to boil down faith to one word, it would be still.”
In the midst of all the questions, I still come to you for answers.
In the midst of the broken down buildings of my faith, I still find new treasures in the rubble.
In the midst of all the unknown, I still experience a peace that is not of this world.
Even though there are a lot of lonely moments, I still discover you in the least expected moments and people.
Even though there are days of exhaustion and surrender, you still surprise me and encourage me to keep going,
Even though there is a lot of grey, I still learn that it has more colors than I could ever imagine.
So I still make my way into the wilderness and find that you’ve been waiting there for me.
I’ve discovered something beautiful: the loneliest steps are the ones between the city walls and the heart of the wilderness, where safety is in the rearview mirror, new territory remains to be seen, and the path out to the unknown seems empty. But put one foot in front of the other enough times, stay the course long enough to actually tunnel into the wilderness, and you’ll be shocked how many people already live out there – thriving, dancing, creating, celebrating, belonging. It is not a barren wasteland. It is not unprotected territory. It is not void of human flourishing. […] The walk out there is hard, but the authenticity out there is life.
Jen Hatmaker in: Braving the Wilderness . Brené Brown 2017.
Writing for Five Minute Friday today.
So beautiful and poignant. I loved your truth about “still.”
Thanks, Mary!
You have put into words what we all must do–persistently look for God and signs of his work in the world. May joy and peace be yours.
That is true, it is part of our human experience. Thanks for your wishes, Carol!
Still. ..
So gut, ich glaube so geht’s mir auch…
Willkommen in der Wildnis, meine Liebe! Hoffentlich entdeckst du immer wieder ihre Schönheit und Blüte!
So glad you recognize the presence of the Creator even in the midst of all things human; still. Blessings, Ellis
Thanks, Ellis! I guess that is the key: in the midst of it all…