Somewhere along the journey I gave up…
I gave up believing that my voice had any real value. I gave up believing that my experiences or my writing could inspire, challenge, or encourage anyone. So I did what you do; I stopped showing up.
I stayed hidden for quite some time, wandering and wrestling in what I would call the wilderness. According to the ancient Scriptures the wilderness is “the place God speaks” but it took me some time to experience that. The wilderness is messy and hard, full of questions for God and questions you must daringly ask yourself. My initial demand for answers was met with an invitation to first seek space and silence and to let go of my need for certainty. The wilderness is gut wrenching and the wilderness is beautiful.
Through my own seasons of reflection and the gracious encouragement of a community I love I’m learning, albeit slowly, that I need to fight against the resilient voice that tells me to stay hidden. I am learning to push against the self-imposed notion that everything about me and my life needs to be sorted and perfected before I offer something of myself to the conversation.
These pages represent a journey to (re)discover my own voice; in the midst of uncertainty and doubt, under the weight of carried wounds, between the balance of home and work, and in the raw and messy realities of marriage, parenthood and planting a new church.
I am eagerly hopeful for a community that would embrace questions and spiritual wrestling as a holy practice rather than a hindrance to the mission. I long for honest places and spaces to spring up all around us that can offer depth to our ongoing conversations about God and humanity.
I share my home with my beautiful wife Kate; an artist filled with passion for music and creating beautiful things. We were married in August 2008 and have 3 children; our son Nash (December 2011) our daughter Mila (April 2013) and our son Knox (April 2015). My journey as a father has profoundly affected my life, and most of the time I have a hard time believing that God loves me as much as I love my children.
I’m hoping you will consider dreaming with me about a new way forward, where we embrace the practice of asking questions without the pressure to offer immediate or formulaic answers. A way that encourages us to wrestle with doubt, values honesty and exemplifies vulnerability. A way that challenges us to seek and practice rhythms that would honor our families and lead us to tangible ways we can love our neighbor before ourselves.
May we begin to believe that each of us has a voice full of value and goodness.