some thoughts

This is something that a friend gave me. It pretty much describes my feelings for the past few years. I share it here in hopes that it will make sense to other people. Maybe it won't. That's okay too.

Unravelling & Ravelling

Here I am unraveling!

It began with a doubt. A tickling thread, an element of itching. Not much, but at the same time I wanted it gone; I prayed for it to disappear.

Unraveling. Some early questions coming out of the fray: How can I claim to know God? How can I comfortably address Infinite-God in prayer? What is my faith made of?

This doubt was mocking me: 'You live your family inheritance! You've invested so much you can't let it go! Your identity is tied up in Christendom-pull this thread and you will be nothing!' Mocking little, dangling thread of doubt.

The thread. I couldn't ignore the itch. Should I snip it off and pretend it never existed? Or should I pull it and examine my reasons for belief?

I would pull it until it stopped. My faith would find its form and still keep me warm. It would stand up to the test. I would tug this thread and come out stronger.

I came out weaker.

Every question led to another. Each answer was teased apart showing its own presuppositions. Every new experience I was open to, and every stranger I met, pulled at the thread. I was unraveling, and I was unraveling fast. What would be left?! Filled with doubt. Filled with uncertainty. Filled with failure. That's how it started, this unraveling.

But unraveling and raveling, I was both. They mean the same thing. They do-go, look it up. I started to see that unraveling didn't need the negative appendage, the un-prefix. As if unraveling were to be avoided, to be considered the ruin of my belief, my faith's fall.

My Christ-encounter had become meshed in interpretation, and confused in my inheritance (church, theology, psychology, politics). My 'becoming-Christ' had become 'Christian' (in all its woollen glory). But rather than unraveling these threads to expose an embarrassed belief, this ravelling disentangles the web of confusing adornments and decor to make room for the next encounter.

Ravelling. Disentangling, not collapsing. My faith didn't unravel, it ravelled. They mean the same thing. It wasn't the end, it was the beginning of something... I learned to revel in ravelling. The questions proclaim more than the answers. The searching confirms that there has been revelation. The hunt for an unattainable treasure confirms that we have found it. Tearing apart what I love is evidence that I love it.

Filled with doubt, for what is faith without it?! Filled with uncertainty, and my remaining beliefs are held lightly; an ensured humility. Filled with failure; failure to grasp God, forever failing.

I am ravelling.