I had a talk today with some one from my old church that I have not seen in a while. We had a lot of catching up to do and we shared stories about where we are in the current stages of our journey. I have been out of that church for four years. I am coming to find that the first year and the last year have been very good. The two in the middle–not so much.
Part of that period was painful for me in more ways than one. Most of them, self inflicted. But thanks to some patient, redemptive help from a handfull of faithful friends I honestly believe that I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I have been reading A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah. His is a tragic story but filled with hope. I am thankful that I have not had to experience any of the horror that he has faced in his life. But even though my own trials pale in comparison to Beah, these words of his resonate with me when I look back over my last four years:
One of the unsettling things about my journey, mentally, physically, and emotionally, was that I wasn’t quite sure when or where it was going to end. I didn’t know what I was going to do with my life. I felt that I was starting over again. I was always on the move, always going somewhere.
Starting my detox from church several years ago was easy. Getting back into the grove has been much harder than I expected. But I feel like I have reached an important mile marker. I feel like, finally, I am heading home. It feels good. I am still reluctant to write too much about some of this until it gets some more flesh to it. But that day is coming.
