And then one day, like Forrest Gump abruptly being done with running, I was suddenly done deconstructing my Christianity. DONE! I just fell dead to it. If I had to have one more theological discussion I was going to either commit a violent crime, start smoking, or become a Six Feet Under fan.
I didn’t care anymore. I knew I was supposed to care…I still didn’t. These were the really big, important litmus-test God questions that you should have the right answers for. I still didn’t care!
Something shifted inside of me. The best way I know to explain it is to say that I didn’t need to have answers anymore. It wasn’t necessary for me to arrive at some defined set of concrete and conclusive beliefs about God in order to keep living life or even be at peace or content inside. The big theological questions became increasingly irrelevant and felt more like a distraction. I was more interested in ground truth―the stuff you need to know on location in your life in order to navigate the twists and turns of daily human existence.