I walked another Labyrinth today. I’ve written about Labyrinth walks before, and I know it’s a symbol symbol that doesn’t need much explaining, but I wanted to write about labyrinths again.
Lately my faith has felt… dead. This morning I realized how afraid I was that perhaps this faith that’s spurred me on my whole life has slowly and quietly gotten up in the middle of the night and left me. No big eruptions, no violent severings, just one whispered, final end. Gone. What if I didn’t even notice, and now it’s lost and I can’t get it back?
I took out my journal and I wrote two words: Lord, rekindle.
I finished Kathy Escobar’s Faith Shift today, and I think I may still be more in what she calls the “Unraveling” phase than I am ready to begin the “Rebuilding” phase. The last chapter of the book says, “That you are even bothering to read this book is a sign that your faith is most definitely not dead. It’s glorious that you are wrestling with cultivating a freer faith despite the costs.” I really hope that’s true. I need that to be true.
Which brings me back to the Labyrinth. The most comforting aspect of a labyrinth walk to me is how the winding path brings me so far away from the center that I feel like I’ll never make it. It’s comforting to me because it’s a false fear– I can see the path ahead and I know I will always make it to the center. No matter how far away I get, the path will always lead me back.
Another symbol I noticed in my walk today was how jarring some of the twists and turns were in the labyrinth. At times, I felt I was being jerked back and forth; I could hardly get my bearings before the path turned again, and I honestly felt a little dizzy. It felt pretty close to the path my life has followed recently.
I also noticed that there were times when the path brought me very close to the center before it shifted and went back out again. At those moments, I could have easily stepped over the stones to cheat my way to the center, but I had to trust that the winding path was the better one.
All of this sounds really nice, but the tough thing is truly believing it and letting it sink in and encourage me.
Escobar says the best thing to do when you’re struggling through a faith shift is to focus on “what works,” what brings you life, revives you, whatever leads you closer to the divine, even if it’s not what it used to be. Right now, for me, those things are investing in my love relationship, working with Grey Havens YA, walking labyrinths, sitting outside, watching the sky, reading (especially poetry), taking in plays and movies that make me think, playing with art and music and words whenever I can, baking bread, practicing yoga, laughing with my nieces… It’s not church right now. It’s not the Bible. But Escobar writes, “We must keep bridging the divide between the sacred and the secular and respect that God is always present – revealing, challenging, reminding, healing, inspiring, convicting, and loving. Instead of seeing things as spiritual only if they have a Bible verse, God, or Jesus attached to them, we can notice God’s Spirit moving in our hearts through nature, music, people, work, and play.”
When the night rolls on, and I can’t sleep for fear of an empty soul, I turn to the words of Alfred, Lord Tennyson:
I whirl, and I follow the Sun.
From “The Dreamer”
And all’s well that ends well,
Whirl, and follow the Sun!