New Beginnings

I’ve wrestled a lot with how to show up on the web. In my adult life, I’ve longed to write for as long as I can remember. And sometimes I have. I found things to share—life lessons I was working out, truths to share with my community, etc. But along the way, I stopped talking. I stopped thinking and engaging the way I had in previous seasons.

My life has taken a painful turn in the last year. In 2017, I found a new church where I would eventually experience complex spiritual abuse, silencing, and dismissiveness by trusted pastors. The thing with abuse is that you don’t often know it’s happening, and when it is spiritual abuse, it is so disorienting that you often think you are the problem. One day, I woke up to find that not only did the pastors cause harm, but the community I faithfully showed up and poured out for suddenly abandoned me. In retrospect, it was a much slower progression than a sudden event.

These acts of neglect and abandonment—exiling and othering—sent me spiraling so far down into the deep that I didn’t know which way was up. The disorder of the deep will do that to you. It cut in a way that caused me to question everything I’ve ever known, impacting nearly every part of my being—heart, soul, mind, and strength. Every person I trusted had rejected me and eventually left me out in the pasture as they all moved on. And in the deep, instead of listening for the Voice of abundance, I listened to voices meant to steal, kill, and destroy.

When people I loved and esteemed no longer spoke goodness, joy, and beauty into my life—and instead ignored, dismissed, and silenced me—I began to think that perhaps they were right. Why should I believe I can speak to anything at all? I was taught that I shouldn’t, so I stopped speaking.

I made the difficult and painful decision of leaving this faith community in March. When Paul speaks of the body and its parts, he makes a great effort to help the hearers understand that all parts of the body are necessary—that there is not one more important, more significant, more necessary than another. I see this passage more clearly than ever as I have been treated as one who is weak and dispensable. I feel that parts of my body were cut off—severed. More difficult is that I had to cut myself off from toxic leadership and systems because I was slowly decaying. This split is something I’ll likely carry with me forever and, though I desire to heal, I do desire to carry it with me. I have been changed by this, formed by it. In carrying it with me, I am more aware of when it happens to others or when I or another might be experiencing the same kind of treatment.

Along the way, I never lost faith in God. I still have hope. I still believe in the Church (I am exploring a more traditional and time-tested practice of it. There will ever be brokenness in her as long as there are humans involved, but I just believe so deeply in Christ’s love for his Bride).

As I find my way to the surface and breathe again, I’m taking the courageous step to reacquaint myself with the voice I’ve been given. I’m getting close to that abundant Voice who speaks goodness and love, beauty and joy, encouragement and courage over me. The one who stirred all these thoughts in the first place, who called me to speak up and against abuse and assaults on Scripture. I’m taking a great leap in an effort to find healing and possibility…to find my voice again.

That’s why I am here, here’s why you might be.

Today you’re less certain about what you think and how you got to thinking it. You’re curious in a way that fosters creativity and wholeness. You are opening up to beauty, mystery, and trust that God is both. You have questions about people, God, and how God shows up in his people. You seek to love others in ways that show them how lovely and significant they are. You believe in the power of an encouraging word. You need an encouraging word. You desire deep healing. You want to offer it to others. You have this one wild and precious life and can’t imagine wasting it.

What you can expect.

My hope for this space is to explore the known, unknown, and the liminal spaces between; to share encouragement and hope because surviving is no easy thing. Together, we’ll ponder the mysteries, complexities, and simplicity of a faithful Christian life. We’ll consider the now and not yet and seek to pursue a life lived in that reality. Sometimes we’ll stumble together. Sometimes we’ll wrestle. Always we’ll aim to edify.

As a Christian, I hold a biblical worldview, so my writing will reflect it. If yours is a faith of a different nature, or perhaps we disagree on how the Bible is interpreted, I still welcome you. I believe I can learn from all people God places in my life and that every interaction is an opportunity.

I’m pursuing a life that reflects truth, goodness, and beauty. I believe there is so much we miss in this fast-paced and digitized world. I hope to draw our attention back to these simple virtues in hopes that we foster a slower-paced life and find deeper connections with the Triune God.

From here forward, I’ll post thoughts I’ve been thinking. I’ll share my reflections, my questions, and my tension. Occasionally, I’ll share poetry or excerpts from a book I’m reading. Maybe I’ll share a song or piece of art that has impacted me. You might find an essay I’ve been working on.

In my life, I have learned that we’re all in process, so this space will likely transform over time. I hope it will. I hope you’ll join me.