Advent for those deconstructing their faith – day 5

God, for someone who has believed a certain way for so many years, it’s a little scary how quickly I’m leaving so much of it behind. I know people might think that it’s evidence of how weak my faith was, but they would be wrong, so wrong…

I didn’t choose this. This wasn’t what I wanted. I always thought that I would grow old in my faith, be one of those white-haired ladies sitting in the front row, smiling at the babies and being the first one to volunteer for prayer meetings. I’d be a stalwart in my church, humble and wise, and I would be so close to Jesus – my hope, my salvation, my friend, my God. My entire life would be spent learning how to be more like Him.

My faith was as strong as anyone else’s. I read my Bible, studied my Bible, I prayed, I wrote out prayers, I begged and pleaded with God to renew my spirit and draw me closer to Him. My faith was the center of my life – it influenced and affected everything I did, everything I was.

And, now, I am shedding belief after belief. I feel layers peeling away from me. But, instead of this leaving me exposed in shame, I feel like the real me is finally being seen. I am dropping these burdens I didn’t know I was carrying and I am starting to breathe again. I hadn’t realized I was suffocating! I thought my faith was meant to give me life so why does it now seem like I was slowly dying and didn’t even know it?

I denied my doubts for so long. I swept my questions and fears under pews and prayers, heaping more doctrines and theologies on top, hoping that the more I studied and sought after God, the more solid my belief would become.

It’s all shifting sand.

And I am sinking

sinking

sinking

under the weight of all these expectations and questions and inconsistent teachings.

The bottom keeps dropping out beneath me, as I fall into a deeper silence and stillness than I’ve ever experienced, where I can’t hear anything but the beating of my own heart and the blood pulsing through my veins.

The old me would have called this emptiness atheism.

But it actually feels a lot like “God.”

Words to contemplate:

Letting Go

I don’t like the dark.

I’d rather be clothed

than naked.

Yet You tell me

I must let go of all that

clothes me –

my joys and fears

my worries and even my imaginings –

and give myself

to the dark emptiness

where You wait

to be born in me.

Meister Eckhart “Book of the Heart: meditations for the restless soul” (as collected and translated by Jon m. Sweeney & Mark S. Burrows

The 2020 Advent Series

• Day 1
• Day 2
• Day 3
• Day 4