It’s a funny thing, not believing in Hell, or an afterlife at all, sometimes. It’s not something I think we can know for sure, this side of death, so I’m in between at the moment. In the midst of The Sorting. Plus, It’s not really something to bring up in polite conversation. Allude to a …
Tag: deconstruction
In the Darkness [thoughts on PND and faith]
I didn’t choose the darkness; I don’t think it chose me either. I simply found myself in a gradual twilight, at the inevitable turning of the earth away from the day, toward the night. The sun slowly set behind me, the shadows lengthened, a dense fog descended in the chill, and I lost the trail …
Empty Shoes [or, when I can no longer carry everything]
The road in the end taking the path the sun had taken, into the western sea, and the moon rising behind you as you stood where ground turned to ocean: no way to your future now but the way your shadow could take walking before you across water, going where shadows go This is …
story
I’m just one small part in an unfolding story. I don’t know how it’s going to end (I’m not even sure how how it started). Right now I’m quite content spinning my little spiderwebs here in the corner, remaking my home day-by-day, in a location that seems appropriate. Regarding faith and doubt and God and …
landslide
I took my love and I took it down I climbed a mountain and I turned around. And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills, when a landslide brought me down. The best lyrics are ones that can be universally applied. Ambiguous enough that each individual can take them and shape them into meaning …
Kettle [“just because I don’t go to church, doesn’t mean…”]
***I’m linking this post up to a conversationĀ centering around ‘REST ‘, over at Esther Emery’s blog space ‘Church in the Canyon’.*** I’ve been to church three times this year. I kept telling myself that I’d get back into the swing of things soon, that I was merely in a period of upheaval, trying to …
dust
There’s no escaping a divine appointment. It’s at the dusty crossroads, with a stone in your shoe and the sun in your eyes. You feel it in the limping and the blindness. It’s in the heavy bag, with it’s unrelenting pressure on your brittle bones. You hear it in the call of the carrion, arching …
spiderweb (or, when my faith is not made of bricks)
The thoughts in this post have been shuffling around in my heart and on my computer screen for at least a month, but the timing hasn’t been right, until now. A couple of days ago I stumbled across Alissa Writes Words, who is hosting a link-up on the theme of “What I want you …
Carpet, or floorboards? [Thoughts on making way for the beauty of doubt]
This post was originally published over four years ago [edited now only slightly for fluency and clarity], when I first ventured to put words to my thoughts about my questioning. At the time I felt like it was a really new thing, to question the faith of my youth, or express doubts about what I …
Sorted
“Did you ever think you would have it all sorted by the time you were thirty?” So I asked a friend of mine a number of weeks ago now. I remember being in my early twenties thinking that thirty seemed an absolute age away (I know all you well-over-thirties are having a good chuckle at …