Faith Deconstruction

And reconstruction

I’m surrounded by plenty: my fridge and pantry are well-stocked. My dwelling is warm and comfortable. My immediate family is dear and near. I have a strong community, and I’m driven by a sense of purpose daily. I’m grateful to the core. (There are more than 8 billion people on our blue earth — for many, a piece or two, if not more, of what constitutes “plenty” is missing.)

Most of all, I’m secure in my faith.

I don’t say this lightly. I went through a faith crisis twice as an adult.

I did my version of faith deconstruction when I questioned everything, once in college and once in my early 30s. And nobody knew. It was a lonely battle, but it was a necessary one. It helped that I didn’t have the noise of the Internet to confuse or bully me into choosing one way or the other. It was a heart-wrenching, soul-searching journey to wholeness and clarity.

Who knows if older age will usher in another crisis? (I have seen it happen.) But even if it does, the first two have already prepared me to come to the same conclusion:

“Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

It’s okay to question.

You should question.

You should not be afraid to question.

But question for the right reason.

Even if the conclusion is uncomfortable.

And the culture that you despise also shares the same conclusion.

Faith and culture are separate.