guilt

Ever since childhood, there’s often been a subtly pervasive voice in the background saying, “You’re not good enough, you’re not doing enough, you’re not enough as you are.” Have you heard it? This was not stated by anyone explicitly, but was sometimes implied within spiritual environments I participated in and observed. Guilt. As easy as… Read More guilt

(re)movement

As I have pulled back on my participation in familiar spiritual environments, as I have ceased the once familiar spirituality of my history and context, I find that I still encounter God in the midst of (re)movement. I do not speak, but stay silent; I do not move, but am still; I do not ask,… Read More (re)movement

movement

I sometimes feel a sense of guilt at re/moving myself from familiar spirituality, from my roots, from certain religious practices, from pieces of my history and context, from unquestioning Christianity. I “should” on myself—I should be involved, I should serve, I should attend, I should do this and that spiritual discipline whether I feel like… Read More movement

when it’s over

It’s easy to experience God in the beautiful. I went truck camping this past weekend and found a peaceful, quiet spot by running water. I’d been waiting for a night or two to drive new dirt roads. To find something new, somewhere quiet. I drove miles into the wild, kicking up clouds of dust, thick… Read More when it’s over

it matters

It’s okay to say, “It hurts.” Don’t belittle your pain; don’t compare or relativize it. Own it. Hold it. Say out loud, “It hurts and it matters.” Someone else always has it worse off. But no one else suffers quite like you—whether it was today, yesterday, or 10 or 50 years ago. It matters. Don’t… Read More it matters

nomadism

Nothing is concrete. I’m not one to build a home on a fundamentalist, literalist, or “rock solid” foundation; I am nomadic in what and where I plant myself. Not the “sinking sand” the Bible speaks of, just finding a place in the dirt to set up a tent, then moving on to the next location… Read More nomadism

possibilities

I followed the snaking Gallatin River on 191, driving beside the water, on either side of me tree covered mountains and cliff faces, the sporadic homes and all the vehicles going somewhere. I played a song and prayed. It was a real prayer. Honest. Broken. Those kinds of prayers are rare, hard to come by… Read More possibilities