chesha in motion, indeed

Hello again
 
I took a long hiatus. I just stopped caring about beating out my theology, or lack thereof. I experienced one brother attempting suicide, and one brother graduating with a doctorate. I got a job. I traveled to Israel for a month. I sat on my couch with Jason. I got a dog.

Alphabet Soup in Motion

I started therapy. Psychoanalysis, if you're interested. Pretty sweet deal, actually. The guy has been a therapist for years, but needed one last case study to complete his certification, or  whatever, in psychoanalysis. I see him FOUR days a week (that's right, four). For real cheap. Best thing for me.

I started playing with my creativity again. I paint, make jewelry, carve stamps, design projects, and prettify my house.

I'm about to commit what I suspect is blog popularity suicide. Although, I'm sure the case could be made that not posting for well over a year already did that.

More after the jump.

Open letter to Like A Child

 This is an open letter to likeachildscience.blogspot.com. Her blogs are so beautifully honest and rich. Stop by her place, and see what I mean.

Dear Like a Child,

I don't even know how to subject this email. Sometimes things resonate too deeply for pithy titles. After you joined my blog, I started reading yours, and even your "About me" almost brought me to tears. I know that heart-aching loneliness that comes from leaving the exclusive teachings you grew up with. With no "church body" around to tell you that you're ok, your teaching rears its ugly head, and says you most certainly are not ok, you are "backslidden," or "out of God's will." Or maybe not "saved" at all. Not only does your fate hang in the balance, the fates of all the people you aren't impacting for the Lord hinge on your disobedience. It's crushing. Maybe, like me, you've even tried to convince yourself to just quit and conform. This liberty I've found offers none of the security of the boxes of the past, and at times, I wonder if I'll drown in it.

I'm beyond the panic attacks. Although, going to church, depending on the church, can wind me up so tight it takes all day to calm down. And I finally found the courage to approach a new church, lay my current "condition" on the line, and let the chips fall. Trying to hide this new evolution of me and faith bothers me most. Because so many people I love and admire still live in that old world, I try to protect them. And, while I am getting to the place where I think this journey is a good and meaningful one, I don't wish it on anyone else. It felt so violent to wake up in the middle of this doubt storm. And life keeps going. You have children needing you, regardless of your condition. I have patients needing me. Like you, I don't think we'll ever go back. It's never going to be the same "faith" for us. But I don't believe that was pure faith back then. Not enough doubt. Living honestly brings its own reward, and I find the molecules of faith that remain mean so much more.

I'm going to follow your journey. Lately, I have been collecting a small coterie of individuals facing their doubts and on this continuum of faith. Each of us different, but believing we all belong. We do need community. I'm glad you're in mine.

Thanks,
chesha in motion