Reflections on Deconstruction–Repost with additions

I started this series on deconstruction around August of 2022, and it’s progressed in fits and starts since then. That’s partly because I always have a bunch of different irons in the fire and I tend to chase shiny objects.

But that’s not the only reason. Another reason is that even now I’m still processing things.

The main reason I’ve dragged this out for so long is because I really didn’t want to write about some of the elements of my story that would be more controversial.

I dreaded the inevitable pushback I’d get online. But I’ve decided it’s time to quit delaying and tell the story of my faith journey as fully as I can. With that in mind, for those of you who have come to the series late I’m reposting the first post, a description of what deconstruction is and what it feels like. I’ve also made a few additions to the original post:

WHAT IS DECONSTRUCTION?

What is deconstruction? I can describe what it feels like better than I can explain what it is.

Deconstruction feels like walking alone through a pitch-black forest.

It’s the unsettling feeling you get when the ground you’re walking on becomes unstable, ready to collapse under you.

It’s a deep-seated, gnawing fear that there’s nothing out there.

It’s being hit by wave after wave of uncertainty to the point where you feel like you’re drowning.

It’s clinging on to whatever meager strands of hope you can find, just to survive.

It’s a journey through darkness in hope of finding a light.

It’s walking a road you did not choose and would rather not follow.

It’s been called the dark night of the soul.

Now we call it deconstruction.

Over the last fifteen years or so, I’ve made that journey.

Thankfully, and by God’s grace, I’ve made it through. Sort of.

I’ve decided to share my journey. I’m not sure how long it will take me to do that, but if God grants me the time, I’ll share as much as I can. Since my heart attack last year, I’ve learned never to take anything for granted, especially that I’ll be alive tomorrow.

Why am I telling my story now?

Partly because the circumstances of my life have aligned to the point where I have time to write. (Semi-retirement is wonderful that way!)

I’m also writing about my own deconstruction because there’s a lot of fuzzy thinking out there regarding what deconstruction is, what it means, who it happens to, and so on.

Many people identify deconstruction with demolition, thinking that those who go through the process are nominal Christians who are turning away from Christ and trashing the faith. A well-known evangelical pastor commented that people deconstruct because they want to have more sex or they want to sin without conscience issues. Such blanket statements are ignorant at best, not to mention cruel.

Truth be known, the faithful Christian sitting in the pew in front of you might be silently deconstructing, afraid to confide in anyone.

I was one of the silent ones. I shared with Laurel and a handful of others, but even then my speech was guarded. I never fully revealed my struggles.

Through the darkest times I had a prayer that I prayed every day, sometimes multiple times a day: “Lord, don’t let go of me. And don’t let me let go of you.”

God answered that prayer and we walked through the forest hand-in-hand.

I’m sharing my story especially for the silent ones, the many who are deconstructing but don’t say so publicly because they’re afraid of what people will think or say. They’re afraid of being cut off by their family, friends, and churches. They are walking alone through that dark forest.

You are not alone. If you’re in that position, I hope my story will be an encouragement.

Deconstruction is a daunting journey through a dark forest. In J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, two forests stand out: Lothlorien and Mirkwood. Lothlorien (LOTR) is an enchanting place, a place of healing. Mirkwood (The Hobbit) is a dark and dangerous place, a place you might get through if you stick to the road. And if you’re lucky.

Deconstruction is like walking through Mirkwood.

You don’t choose deconstruction. It happens to you.

Maybe these posts will help you better understand those who say they are deconstructing their faith.

Or perhaps they will help you through your own process of deconstruction/reconstruction.

Either way, I invite you to join me as I continue to reflect on this journey and what I have learned along the way.