Yet.
That’s a powerful word in my world, right now.
I’d love to say that using that word conveys excitement for what lies ahead. If that were true, I’d qualify it as being ‘ripe with hope’. But to add positive qualifications to this simple, three-letter word would misrepresent.
Today the term ‘yet’ is not full of hope. But there is some. There is enough to show up today and ask another question. Enough to press into the conversation a little more, no matter how light the press might be.
I’ve shared a little recently about this journey of transformation in my life. This week I listened to a message from Austin New Church that hits directly at the questions and doubts my heart is fighting to resolve.
As people of faith, what does loving others ACTUALLY look like? As a community of faith, do we understand the difference between external conformation and internal transformation? And has the Church (big C) adopted an approach that’s caused more damage than good?
Something is off about how we create space for someone to be curious about faith. How we allow them to show up in that space with no expectation to change. How we advocate for growth without requiring conformity.
Something needs to change. I know this with conviction. I can’t fully explain it yet. But that doesn’t make it any less true.
Something has to change.
A friend recently pointed out that I’d used the term ‘yet’ at the end of one of these thoughts. And they didn’t want me to miss the importance of it. And the hope that it held.
The past few years I’ve slowly examined beliefs I thought were foundational to my life. Foundational to my faith. And with each thread I pulled, more questions emerged. And with every question… more doubt.
Over time my faith nearly became unrecognizable… unfamiliar… unexplainable.
And yet… stronger… purer… more intimate.
There’s that word again… Yet.
No, I can’t explain it yet. But one day I will.
And in the in-between time I sit with the tension of knowing without understanding. It’s an odd space to exist. How can someone know without understanding?
Great question. Could it be connected to a ‘knowing’ referenced in Psalm 139:14?
I will give thanks to You, because I am awesomely and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are Your works,
And my soul knows it very well. (NASB)
It’s the last line that gets me. “And my soul knows it very well.”
As if there is something deep within me… within my soul that understands something my head can’t easily comprehend. A knowing I cannot explain… yet.
As one who loves the journey to understanding, I confess that my preferred pathway is outside in. Just give me the facts. A book to read. A TedTalk to watch. A podcast to consume. Give me the expert opinion and I’ll adopt it as my own.
That approach begins with the head and attempts to push to the soul. But deep understanding doesn’t take that path. Deep understanding is an inside out kind of journey. Deep understanding begins with the internal and makes its way to the external.
It makes me wonder if the author of Psalm 139:14 smiled as they penned those words. “And my soul knows it very well.” To acknowledge there is a divinely crafted soul within each of us that knows a limitless Creator in a way our limited minds struggle to conceive.
But our soul doesn’t feel the need to conceive. Only to reach. Only to connect. Only to behold the Mystery.
The soul isn’t bothered by things it cannot explain because it knows an explanation is not the point. Connection is the point.
The soul isn’t distracted by what it cannot comprehend because comprehension isn’t the point. Communion is the point.
The soul isn’t consumed by the thought of being perfect because perfection is not the point. Wholeness is the point.
The soul’s deepest desire is to shed the things that hinder connection, communion and wholeness.
If this is true, then is it possible that deep within us our soul drives us toward a truth we know is right, even if we cannot articulate it… yet.
And it only begs the question… what could our faith communities look like if we stopped focusing on forcing others to conform and simply held space for the soul to do what the soul longs to do… experience Connection… Communion… Wholeness?
What would it look like if we allowed the soul to drive what needs to be shed in order to know Connection… Communion… Wholeness?
What might happen when we stop worrying about how people show up in this world and simply embrace them when they show up and why they show up… and the beautiful complexity they introduce simply because they are awesomely and wonderfully made… and even OUR souls can see that.
