Writing and painting and music all smooth the hard edges from days of engineering at a local software company. The rest of my life is spent playing, watching, or traveling to soccer games. I’m comfortably married (don’t worry I convinced my bride that was a compliment) and the parent of 3, like totally awesome California teenagers that I avoid bragging about.
Why do I write?
For a long while life fit in that container, but then something curious started happening. My programmed voices insisted on the box, but life experiences and worldviews began to crack it anyway. Soon all the rebar in my concrete foundation was seemingly jackhammered out one by one: I was deconstructing. A better name for it might be Unbundling (see why here).
I seem to be entering what Richard Rohr calls the second half of life: “Most people do not see things as they are, rather, they see things as they are.” Whoa. Then why is everyone acting like they have the sure explanation and ‘the others’ are wrong? Where is the mystery, the nuance, the humility in all this certainty? (see Stained Glass)
I’m not searching for something new, but instead hoping to reignite something old. The Jesus I grew up hearing about was constantly challenging the religious establishment of the day, smashing containers, urging his beloved creation to open their eyes wider, and telling them that all the rules they fussed over could be summed up in two: love God and love neighbor.
How did it all get so complicated?
Is it possible to find the joy of faith without becoming the religious establishment?
I could go on… and I am, that’s what this writing adventure is all about. Quick note:
You will hear me talk about the church from time to time. That’s because she raised me, and even when you wrestle with your upbringing, you don’t disown your mother. In some ways it’s family business, but I’m finding everyone has “business” in their family and it helps to know we’re not alone. (See Angry Tides)
Oh, and one more thing. When our picture-perfect evangelical daughter went to college and informed the world she is queer, another box was broken, so you’ll hear about some of that here too. Just enough to make traditional readers call up the prayer chain, and the already inclusive say, duh, what took them so long. (see The Haircut)