#unpopularopinion: It may be possible to at least try to stay tender in a violent age, imperfectly pursue the fruit of the Spirit, & disagree with elders in the faith without impugning their motives? Maybe it’s possible to generally to be over fundamentalism, but not over Jesus?
If you leave one kind of fundamentalism for another, merely trade up sanctimony for snark, don’t be surprised if you get devoured again. Ideological purists unite in their love for eating their young. For Christ’s literal sake, get around people who will tend softly to your soul.
I’m all for tearing down the power structures, even ones that prop me up. I know nothing about fatherhood of any sort, so this isn’t self-referential: you still need mothers/fathers in your life. When you’re at the bottom, you won’t need a one-liner, but a casserole & an afghan.
I’m not policing anybody’s tone or judging anybody’s journey, so don’t @ me with that. I’m talking about something @bradjersak showed me: the difference between healthy deconstruction (as differentiation) & iconoclasm-tear everything old off the walls, like some Reformers did.
It’s your SOUL. Your tough but tender, unbearably precious soul. You can’t go trying to pull out weeds all the time, without destroying things that are green & hopeful. A diet of non-stop cynicism will kill it. You need calm, quiet, nurture—folk who will tend to your wounds.
I don’t believe positional authority is a thing anyway-authority is relational, & only exists when freely given in context of trust. But I also don’t think you should let everybody with a “F*%# everything” attitude speak into your soul. You know what I’m talking about!
We are all kids, man. Wounded bleeding children who so rarely stop posturing & blustering long enough to say it hurts really bad, that we feel lost & confused, that we need help. I hope you’ve got somebody in your life you can bleed with, & not just try to be cool around.
I don’t want to be one of the cool kids. I want to be awkward, unsure, full of rage & hope, dependent on God & others despite my ego’s loudest protests. I want to get well enough to extend even the blessing I didn’t get or know how to ask for.
It’s okay to come out of the storm sometimes, to not rush so quickly from a certainty that didn’t serve you well, into a new certainty. Grace. Peace. Respite. You get to not be what you were, but not yet know what you want to be. Patience, child. Red, raw, screaming—beloved.
Where are you safe? Where no pretensions are required of you. No password, no shibboleth. Only your soul is required for entry. The kind of space where Jesus, grandma, & your dearest friends wait for you in party hats to come home. Find it. Just be, sometimes. Nothing to prove.
No finger-pointing here, no judgment or moralism. I’m just asking you—please be gentle with your self, okay? We need all of you here, not some hollowed out, soul-dead version. Take care of your self. Get around some people who won’t bind you up with boxing gloves.
And if you aspire yourself to be in the business of wiping anyone else’s tears, please don’t try to do it with the barrel of a gun. You’ve got people around you who are hurting in the same ways you hurt; people who are dumb in the way you were 5 minutes ago. Be soft with them.
