Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Midnight

If this song was written just before I left the church, I probably would have listened to it a lot, both before and after my transition out. Everything I was feeling, Tyler hits so perfectly:

Wrestling with sadness and dysfunction.  Being unable to reconcile the church's story and steadily unfastening myself from church services (where it felt like God wasn't), and feeling less dissonant and more stirred and humane for it.

Longing for more, like realizing the whole plan of salvation seemed broken and corrupt beyond even God's control, and thinking of ways for us (*all* of us) to risk eternity in a bid to hit the reset button of divine order, all for a chance at doing it better next time. (Say what you will, the church's salvation narrative always needed a compelling jump start anyway.)

How becoming an adult in the church and learning of the endowment ritual and extraneous pieces of church history "made everything weird".

The burgeoning excitement as I began to entertain the idea that discernment of truth could come from within me and me alone (no spirit nor prophet's permission were needed) and realizing that maybe this is what life's ultimate test really is.

Praying before going to sleep anyway, and stopping in the middle of my last sincere prayer to tell God that I guess he doesn't exist, and being unable to take it back.

"I guess what's done is done."