"When I know I've lost me,
will you come to find me?
Will you reintroduce me to your love?
Can you find all my pieces?
Can you put me back together?
They say you're the defender of my heart,
is it better this way?"
He hears my rewrite of the popular song. One I have sung over and over again, confidently.
He hears my beating heart, throbbing with fear. If there is one thing I still know, it is this:
He hears me, He knows me and He is still writing my story.
When I was little, my grandma always taught me not to pull on the loose strings of my clothes. I can hear her voice now, telling me how quickly it will unravel. She would remind me to be gentle with my tights as I pulled them onto my legs, "Careful, or they will tear." I always had tears in my leggings growing up, I was playful and reckless.
I didn't know the same would go for faith.
As curious as I am, there was a loose string. I kept tugging at it, mesmerized at the way it all unraveled before me. Shocked at how quickly it came apart, wasn't it rooted on solid ground? And now, here I am, sitting on the floor, surrounded by the loose threads of my faith, wondering if beauty can be made from even this. Here I am, pleading with someone to answer: is this a good thing or not?
I told a friend about my unraveled tapestry.
She said, "Leah, if it helps - this makes sense. Mid-twenties, graduating college, trauma and a personality adamantly against ambiguity. It was bound to happen."
This is one of the scariest places I have ever stood. It is also one of the most beautiful. It is a view from the mountain I have never seen before. I am grateful for the support I have found here. I am grateful for the stories I have heard here. It feels like a valley, but the view is wonderful. I am not afraid, because I know Jesus is here. Slowly, He is stripping away the parts of my theology that were far from him.
I cannot be silent in this place.
It would be simply unfair of me to only post my revelations.
I must invite you into my journey because I know I am not alone.
I know that there are others who are deeper in this journey than me.
I have given Jesus my unraveled tapestry. I don't know how long it will take, but I hope the end result is more beautiful than I can imagine. I hope the same for you.
