The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet. – JRR Tolkien, “Roads Go Ever On”
When I was a young, I kept my hair cut short, my shirt tucked in, and my khakis pressed. And in those days I knew stuff about God. I got a Bachelor of Arts in Bible and went to seminary, where I got a Masters of Divinity. I thought I had it all figured out.
Until I didn’t.
I didn’t really have a dark night of the soul (yet!), nor did I face some existential crisis that led me to nearly abandon the ministry. That’s not my story. My story is that sometime after seminary, I sensed the invitation to start out on a journey. And on this journey I’ve been slowly shedding most of what I used to believe and have come to believe new things (most of which were actually old things).
This blog is about the journey. It’s about the things I’m learning about God, wonder, the universe, relationships, everything. As Rob Bell teaches, “everything is spiritual.” So I continue onward.
In the process of telling my stories, sharing what I’ve learned, I hope you’ll gain the courage to start your own journey, or continue the one you’re on, because you are not alone. As my good friend Steve says, we’re in it together.
So, please, talk back. My preference would be to take you to my favorite place in town to get craft beer and talk about what I’m learning, what you’re learning, and how our stories might overlap so we can encourage each other to keep walking. I think the blog equivalent is chatting in the comments or by email. Commenting and sharing are like gold to a writer, so thank you in advance.
I’ll leave you with a line from my favorite spoken word poem. It’s served as something of a mission statement for me over the past couple of years:
and hold what you see just a little while longer.
For in a world of fast faces, I’m looking for God everywhere,
trying to figure out a little better this little thing he made called a man. – Anis Mojgani, “For Those Who Can Still Ride in an Airplane for the First Time”