I stopped blogging in March in anticipation of my second baby’s birth. I thought I’d be back in this space after about two months, but now my baby girl is nine months old and eating solid food and will probably be driving off to prom tomorrow. Part of the reason I was not writing about my spiritual journey for so long was just life, pure and simple. I had a new baby and I started homeschooling my eight-year-old (quite the situation, let me tell you) and I moved house and, and, and. But mostly, I have been going through so many spiritual changes and rebirths that I simply haven’t been able to put them into words. I’ve been in process.
I have been deep in it, you guys.
My husband is in the Air Force, so I have watched him move around the world. I’ve also watched others go through the same routine–living on a military base is like living in a long-term hotel. Who’s moving out next? In the military there is this interminable process called “out processing”. Essentially, you know where you are moving next (your Permanent Change of Station, or PCS; this acronym is used as a verb, as in: “When are you PCSing?”) and when, but you don’t just go to work normally up until it’s time to load the moving truck. No, you have weeks of “out processing”. Instead of going to work, you go to appointments made for the purpose of turning in paperwork. It is incredibly boring to be out processing. Things are moving forward, and the end is in sight, but it is all just tedium that no one enjoys.
Spiritually speaking, I spent most of 2017 out processing. A lot was sloughed off. But I finally am beginning to turn that precious corner away from the activities of deconstructing my old understandings of faith, and now I am beginning to build something worthwhile. I am PCSing out of a faith that ultimately does not help me become a whole person, and I am moving into a faith practice that both serves me and keeps me connected to the Mystery than is greater than myself. But during the middle of all that out processing, I simply could not write about it. Everything was changing–but nothing was “happening”. There was so much worth writing about, but no words formed.
I am getting perspective now. I am thinking my thoughts in words that might make sense to others.
And now, I will begin again.