If you are a person who prefers their leaders in a clearly delineated worldview, and you find me confusing, well, try being me.

Sometimes faith deconstruction is liberating and adventurous. Other times I cry and cry and cry.

They say with age comes wisdom. I will let others judge if that is true for me. What I feel, though, is more curiosity.

I was taught the rules were there to make us a stronger community, to guide all of us into being a more loving and truer expression of the Body of Christ. I thought the rules would protect me and my vulnerable friends. Until they didn’t.

How do we attend to our own grief when everyone around us is only numbing the pain?

Why is it so necessary that something as mystical and profound as the resurrection of the dead be dependent on Jesus’ resurrected body being a matter of historical fact?