It’s been a while, I know. I’d love to be able to tell you it’s because I’m just too damn busy loving on my little son, but that’s not entirely true. My son is happy and healthy and looking beautiful and loving on him takes up the majority of my time and effort, that true. However, I am not too busy to write. I have found it to be true that when I need to write, I find the time. Lately I have neither had the desire or will to write. The reasons are two fold.
One reason is that happiness does not make me want to write. That has always been the case, and I don’t know why. Sometimes I have written letters while happy, but not often. I generally need to write while I am miserable or angry. It’s easier for me to put words to those feelings and it’s safer to write about those emotions. Whenever I wrote about my happiness, I feel like I need to knock on wood and throw some salt over my shoulder. I’d rather keep all that joy to myself in case it decides to turn sour. That being said, it’s a happy thing that I haven’t been writing. I am happy. Though my life feels a little complicated, I wouldn’t trade it. I’m still a little wary of spoiling it by saying too much, but I’m really happy.
The second reason I haven’t been writing is not quite as cheery a reason, but not necessarily negative. Anyone who’s been following my blog for any length of time knows my fractured relationship with Christianity. I have been desperately trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered faith for over ten years. I have the same desires and fears and roadblocks I did then and more. My distrust of the church has led me to create a habit of entering the sacred space with only criticism and reticence. When I think of my ideal faith, I think of the music and background vocals of gospel music. Open, wide, lowing, and free. When I walk into church I feel caged, claustrophobic, self-conscious, even angry. Not only that, but I realize that my beliefs are not strictly Christian. I have known for some time that I no longer wish to self-identify as a Christian. My beliefs are what they have been for ten years. Nothing has changed, except I no longer desire to call myself as a Christian. You can slap a label like a yoke on your shoulders and try to carry it around, but when it no longer sits right it wears your down. It’s wearing me down trying to carry around the Christian label when I must constantly follow my defense with an attack just to stay true to where I’m at. I don’t want to fight it anymore. I think I knew it when I stepped into a Unitarian church and sang “As the Deer” siting beside a druid couple and listening to a barefoot Pastor not mention a particular god. I see myself there. I see myself sitting side by side with people who have loving hearts and find God in different places: in themselves, each other, nature. That’s where I feel at home.
What does this mean for my little blog here? Well, I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I felt it early on that I could end up here and that’s why I named this blog sacred as opposed to Christian struggler. Life is always moving and changing. There are ups and downs and I know that I’ll keep writing. I enjoy this blog. I love my community of Christian-ish misfits, my church family. It’s going to look and sound a little different. Bear with me as I make a transition in my life.
Faith should feel like this sounds!