Metamorphosis
Navigating Life in the In-Between
“Nobody ever talks about this part… you know, the part where you’re no longer a caterpillar and not yet a butterfly. You don’t know who you are and you don’t know where you’re going. All you know is that every fiber of your being is calling for transformation. For disruption. For a revolution of the spirit. So surrender. Breakdown. This is not the death of you. This is the dying of who you once were. This is your rebirth, darling. And these are called, ‘growing pains.’” — Alexis Rakun
- September.
- Caterpillars.
- Tadpoles.
- Going from college to the real world.
What do all these things have in common? Transition. Metamorphosis.
In all of these examples, there is somewhat of a weird in-between. To me, September doesn’t quite feel like summer, nor does it feel like fall. It is in an in-between stage. Caterpillars turning into butterflies and tadpoles transforming into frogs are morphing into something completely different and new. It is an in-between stage. Going from college into your first job is a huge transition. Things no longer feel as structured as they once did. It is an in-between stage.
All that to say, I want to talk about what it feels like to be in a weird in-between: what it feels like to be in a September of the soul; a metamorphosis of faith. Things are changing, and change, as we all know, can be scary. It can feel like all has been lost, yet on the other side of it, as in all these examples, something even more beautiful can come about (maybe except frogs… those things are ugly).
It has been over a month since I last wrote a blog post and I think I know why. Deconstruction is daunting. Once-held absolute truths are all but grains of sand slipping through my hands. The more I research and ponder my own theology, the more I realize, “Oh wow, I really don’t know what I believe.” But that is what this whole blog is about. The mission of The Deliberative Theologian is to have those hard conversations, wrestling with life and faith.
My natural tendency, whenever I feel overwhelmed, is to back away and chill. Don’t engage. Just watch television. Just avoid. That is not bad all the time, but I can’t avoid continuing to wrestle with my faith just because it is hard work, just because it feels like I have no idea what I am doing, and just because I am scared to voice my real thoughts for fear of backlash from my family, friends, and whoever else may be reading these blog posts. It is time to embrace the in-between. It is time to take the advice from the quote above, to realize that this is not the death of me. This is a rebirth, and hopefully, I am becoming a person who is more compassionate, empathetic, and loving through the process.
Not only am I talking about myself here, but I am going to turn this on you, the reader. Are you going through a transition stage in your life? Are your questions about faith scaring you? It is okay, and you are not alone. We will go through many transitions throughout our lifetime. We must trust that we are getting stronger and stronger day-by-day through the wrestling. The thing that makes this transition that we call deconstruction extra hard, and I’ve talked about this on my blog before, is the fact that most people who are super vocal and have blogs, youtube videos, books, etc., have already completed the journey of deconstruction. So this is why it can be challenging to navigate this in-between space, because it is rarely documented in the midst of the transition itself.
There has to be a way to live life in the in-between; to thrive in times of theological turmoil. Trust me. It is difficult. I live between two worlds: one where I can believe what I want to believe (my progressive church), and another that tells me that since I am having so many doubts and questions, I am going to end up losing all faith and going to hell (if hell even exists). That’s a lot of pressure. No wonder I’ve just been wanting to chill out and watch television. If you are experiencing the same tension, please don’t give up.
Keep fighting. Keep questioning. Keep searching.
People love to throw shame on those who doubt and question, but some of that shame-throwing, in my opinion, can come from people who don’t have it figured out themselves (no one does), and instead of doing the hard work of wrestling with their faith, they choose to heap shame on others to deflect their own questions. Now, not all concern voiced by your friends and family members is built around shaming you. It can be genuine, but I understand it isn’t helpful because it feels like added pressure on an already stressful trek.
Life in the in-between can be frightening. It can feel like you will never be happy again because your eyes have been opened to different ways in which the world operates. Things may never be the same, but that doesn’t mean happiness will never consume you again. Hell, it may be good that certain things aren’t the same. If Evangelicalism made you feel like a horrible person just for being born, then I’m glad that things won’t be the same in areas such as those.
It can feel scary to question if you can pray to God anymore because you don’t know if you believe prayer works. It can feel scary to question whether Jesus was really God’s son or just a person we have been worshipping for thousands of years without question. It can feel scary to stop reading the Bible literally because it opens up far more questions than you expected. It can feel scary to have theological stances that differ from how your parents or past churches have believed.
Faith is a journey, not a cakewalk.
Journeys have obstacles. Journeys have unexpected detours. A journey through anything can and will be difficult. Without the journey, though, the destination would never be as breathtakingly beautiful as it is. We learn through the journey. We grow through the journey. We have laughs and tears on the journey. We make memories on the journey. The journey can be just as satisfying as the destination when it is all said and done. Metamorphosis is challenging, but the end result is worth it because you will be more authentic. You will believe what you believe because you have decided to ask the hard questions. You won’t be set in your ways because you will realize how much nuance there is to almost every conversation. You will become the person you were meant to be.
If I can offer any advice in navigating this space, I would suggest finding a community of people that lets you openly question, dialogue, and wrestle with faith without shaming you for where you are (whether conservative or progressive). Find people who will navigate the journey with you. Many Facebook groups can help you find a sense of community if you can’t find one in-person. You can also find blog posts, YouTube content, Instagram pages, etc. of people who challenge you and help you not feel alone. Some people who have helped give me hope in the dark times through their blogs, podcasts, books, and/or tweets include Pete Enns, Kat Armas, Audrey Assad, Brandan Robertson, Kevin Garcia, Jonathan Merritt, Nadia Bolz-Weber, Rachel Held Evans, B.T. Harman, and Jen Hatmaker, to name a few.
The worst thing to do when feeling overwhelmed with theology is to isolate yourself. Please seek help if you are in distress. Losing the framework with which you viewed the world without having a community walking with you can feel horrible. Please seek help because YOU ARE NOT ALONE. There are people who have the same questions as you. There are people who have walked down this scary path before. Be patient with yourself. Be patient with the journey you are on.
Just know this: Even if you are in a metamorphosis of faith, you are growing, you are valuable, and you are loved. It will all be okay, because you are seeking truth, love, community, and authenticity. Amidst all my doubts, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that God honors that searching. I am with you as we navigate this awkward in-between stage.
