Parallel Journeys

October 2008

Just over 3 months ago now, I left on a journey to down under Australia and South East Asia. I have seen some incredible things, met some fascinating people already, and all of this I will remember and learn from and be changed by. There is another journey I want to tell you about, however, one which had its beginnings long before this trip, and which is both the prelude and backdrop to my current travel.

My ´journey´ of faith up to this point, viewed through the eyes of hindsight, has been a slow and painful process of peeling back and tearing off of all that frustrated, saddened and even comforted me in a religion and an institution I no longer know if I recognise as my own. Disillusionment is something I know a lot of Christian believers go through, and it is a harrowing time that can truly shake you to the core of your soul. I am still in the turmoil of it, but I would not change it for the world, it has made me see things with a clarity and a brutal honesty that is both refreshing and shocking.

The simple fact is, that through my own naive hopefulness in the better person, ´wonderful world´, I looked only to the positive and ideal, letting the less appealing and uglier images fade into the foggy background. Nothing is perfect even in our striving for perfection, and it did not take long before those aspects I loved and respected, held up on that pillar of truth, clashed horribly with human error and the reality of life. I saw too often a preaching and narrow attitude which would not relate to where people were at, would not allow for mistakes, and would simply not let you let go of them when you did.

We have all seen it, and I had come to the point where I could not look above or beyond it. I had lost perspective, and the ability to question, and without fully being aware of it I lost a vital part of myself and conformed to a Christianity without quite giving myself to it. I found it harder and harder to be genuine in what I said, did, and claimed to believe, and for the first time I understood the real danger in knowing how to fit into the mask of good appearance.

This nibbled and nagged and ate away at me and I hated my dishonesty and yet could no longer see what was from God and what from man amidst the doctrines and principles and seemingly holy demeanour from the people around me. The inadequacy that their certainty made me feel then, has gradually been replaced by a kind of contentment in my own uncertainty.

And with that, the freedom to step back, from the terminology, guilt ridden insinuations and conformity – strip back o the barest of bones i can manage of what I have faith in. These bones remain fairly uncovered, even now, to the point where I do not know if I am Christian, what I believe or where I stand. It is for that reason that I had known for some time how necessary this present trip is for me. In this depth of uncertainty and questions, criticisms and acknowledgements, I have never felt more aware of myself.

I may be scrabbling around alone in a darkened, muddled place, but I have at least swept clear the obstacles and the clutter that had only become stumbling blocks in my path. And it is here and now, standing amongst this dimly lit confusion that is my faith, that I have found truth in the simplest of statements. God is everywhere. I may not know what I believe, but I am still moved, and no amount of travelling and running has changed that fact.

An inspired conversation with a stranger, a Bible tucked discreetly under a pillow, ´let everything that has breath praise the lord´ emitting from a 4wheel drive in the middle of the outback, a mother and her daughter whispering the lords prayer together in their beds, laughing until my sides hurt, dancing the night away to cheesy music with people I have only known a few hours and loving them all the same. Perhaps I am being chased, perhaps I am running away, but those flickers, chinks and slivers of sacredness shine out.

God is everywhere.

I have been reading a book by Rob Bell called ´velvet Elvis´, and loved his words, his perspective, and his passion.Hhe has somehow confirmed a lot of what I already thought was there, and that our most human and seemingly trivial moments are no less important than those that may appear more ‘worthy’. Sacred moments, holiness, is around us in so many unexpected places. I wonder how many times I have walked past a ´burning bush´ and failed to recognise it for what it is.

so I felt I needed to explain to some of you what’s been going on in this busy little head of mine, to help you understand that I may seem a different kind of character to what you thought when we next meet. Until then, I’ll keep doing what I can, letting the trivial seep in, hope I will continue to be moved, and that from the cleared debris I can rebuild something of an honest and true faith, purely coming from me. I’ll leave you with a excerpt from Rob Bells’ book (and a recommendation to read it).

with love,
Becca x

¨Ordinary moments in ordinary settings that all of a sudden become infused with something else. with meaning. Significance. Hope…these moments cant be tangents. They cant be experiences that distract from ´real´ faith. These moments cant exist on the edges. Because they are a part of our faith. They are expressions of what it means to live in Gods’ world…¨

 

 

November 2008: Reflections on the Outback

March 2009: Diamond in the Rough

June 2009: Quo Vadis?

February 2011: The Nature of Travel