questions of faith

The other night I ran into a girl from the church I worked at last year. It was good seeing her again and we did the social verbal dance of asking about life and parents and the such. I noticed a little hesitation in one of her replies about school and when questioned a little she revealed a deep chasm of questions, doubts, fears, and mess she is trying to process through.

In a nutshell she was done with religion. She was burned, hated what her parents, church, and friends where trying to sale as faith and even at one point she referred to her parents faith as a "toxic pool of religion" (strong words, yet made me laugh a little).

I had a strange reaction to her thoughts and rejection of faith.

I wasn't scared for her, although I might should be.

I wasn't afraid she'd never return to what I believe to be correct, although I hope she does

I was simple proud of her.

Proud that she was willing to really wrestle with her faith. That she just wasn't opening her mouth and saying "give me the Blue Religious cool-aid and I'll drink"

She's really trying to figure out what she believes, why she believes it and then ultimately spend the rest of her life backing up these beliefs.

This is risky business... this is hard business for Christian families and faith leaders.

She may never believe like I believe again... her beliefs may be similar or drastically different.

But I think I'm ok with that.

I'm asking what is better, a person to say they believe what I do, yet never really own it? believe it? commit to living it?

Or someone truly believing something, yet something that I do not believe in?

I of course think my beliefs are right, thus why I believe them... just as you believe what you believe because you believe it is right.

So all that to say...

my dear college friend,

May you continue to wrestle with faith, hope and love.

May you find people who will give you space to reflect and question, yet also find truth and love.

May you come out of this season owning what you believe, and believing in how you live.

I hope you will believe like I do, but if you don't may I, and those like me, give you space to believe next to me.

And if I was honest I'd confess I need to question what I believe more, pausing more to really chew on what I'm reading, acting out of, and declaring I believe in. Even this morning as I read sections of the book of Mark I found myself needing to pause and ponder, to ask many questions, questions I still can't answer. But for what ever reason I choose to still believe, to have faith, and to say that this ancient text has authority, truth, and life.

Faith is a tricky business. and giving someone else's kid permission to question it is easier to do when it's not my kid wrestling... so may I remember these words when my kids do wrestle many many years from now, and may my house be a safe place to have honest questions and true searching. And may I demonstrate a humble faith that never stops chewing on what it means to love God and to walk in according to his Story.

Our trip to the Upper Peninsula... a review with lots of pictures

This was written on Monday, April 20th as Pearl and I drove south through Michigan. I'm now just getting around to posting it... sorry it's so long, I've included extra pictures to hopefully break it up.

enjoy... Matt

So Pearl and I have been on the road the past couple of days. We started last Thursday and traveled out to P-burg after work. We spent the evening/morning connecting with Pearl’s youngest sis (Grace). Crashing in her dorm room and then ventured out of the city early the next morning.

Our travels then turned us north, through Toledo towards Flint and then on to the mighty Mackinac Bridge. We crossed this massive 4+ mile bridge and finally arrived in one of the world’s best kept secret the “Upper Peninsula” (it’s a creative name, I know). But our movement was not yet done, we had another 5 hours to cross the UP and into it’s northern most tip, the Keweenaw Peninsula.

The Keweenaw greeted us with it’s spectacular beauty… a brilliant moon and star kissed sky reflecting off it’s crystal waters and snow caped beaches.

(this is my favorite nature picture from the whole trip)

After 20 hours of driving we arrived to Pearl’s former home and found warm arms awaiting an embrace and then a welcoming bed calling us to rest.

Our time with Pearl’s family was short but sweet. Friday was spent tromping around the Keweenaw, catching up on stories from the year, hearing the latest news on life and then dreaming a little about the future.

The upper Keweenaw is truly an amazing place, it’s trees feel massive and wise, it’s crisp waters pure and strong, it’s inhabitants tough and weathered yet creative and full of a unique culture and way of life. This place has a mystic draw, like an invitation into a boyhood adventure.

(this is the area's "snow meter", look at how much snow they get! CRAZY!)

Saturday started off at “Victoria’s kitchen.” A hole in the wall café that captured my wife’s taste buds and heart many years ago. After a lingering breakfast our feet strolled the streets of Houghton.

Houghton is a place of hippies. In the sixties when hippies escaped north to Canada, some must have become confused and ended up in here instead, only to fall in love with this place and never leave. The age of Houghton can be seen in the architecture and streets. Buildings with detail that cannot be found today, shops with character that invites you look at the walls as much as the goods, and once again a weird invitation that calls you to linger in it’s coffee shops and pubs.

Sunday was a day of rest. Church, food, rest. Conversations on the coach, movies to be enjoyed, and the art of simply being to be enjoyed.

Leslie (Pearl’s mom) made some killer Chicken Curry, which overcame my self control and tempted me to eat enough for 3 growing men.

This rumbling in my gut reminded me of my need for my daily run. I knew the temperature was not the warm 65 degree’s of Friday so I put on an extra layer. I stepped out not to an evening sunset but to a winter snow storm. Pearl laughed and said welcome to spring in the UP, 60’s one day and snow the next.

My run was amazing, the snow fell quietly around me, my pace felt surprisingly easy and the distance from home quickly grew. Then harsh reality set in when I decided to turn around to head back home. Unknowingly I had been running with my back to the wind, a really really hard wind. The snow was no longer quietly falling around me but now whipping into my face, sticking to my hoodie and melting on every stitch of clothing own my body. My joy run was now a race back to the house, where I arrived very wet, cold, but yet still refreshed and alive, laughing with Pearl about the stupidity of wearing a gray hoodie in a gray snow storm.

That ended Sunday

This morning, yes it’s now Monday, brought packing and good byes, but it also brought 2 inches of snow (they would end the day with 8, yes 8" of snow in mid April!). Our good byes turned into one last trip to Pearl’s favorite coffeehouse, and then the inevitably pulling out and heading home.

Our travels today head us toward Leilani (Pearl’s oldest sister) and her 4 kids in Detroit. It also has taken us through 3 hours of slushy mess, which we gladly followed the snow plow through, and now leaves us winding our way along the Upper Peninsula’s southern coast looking once again for the mighty Mackinac Bridge.

I gave the car a "snow-hawk"

(it's cheesy but it made me laugh, cell phone picture)

(another shot from our cell phone, follow that snow plow baby, follow that plow!)

To be uploaded and expanded as the day allows....

So that day has now turned into about a week and I've finally decided to finish this blog rather then finish my homework, I'm really working my priorities I tell ya!

That day when we crossed the "mighty Mackinac Bridge" we were not greeted by its strength and mighty presence but by the stark reality of how harsh life in the Upper Peninsula can be. The winds coming across the lakes where high enough to warrant a police escort (my first police escort across a bridge!). The authorities feared that if someone drove just fast enough, and the wind hit them just right, they could find themselves in an involuntary free fall into one very very cold lake. I yet again gladly followed someone else’s lead.

We arrived in Detroit later that day to the wonderful welcome of nieces and nephews, which lead to made up games involving warn out basketballs and swing rides and eventually a little "mini photo shoot" were they where instructed to act like movie stars (the best I could get was for them to jump off tables for me… still fun and cute but nothing serious).

I really do love these kids, they make me feel like a valued part of the family and also a walking human jungle gym. I am greeted by a mix of hugs and vicious jumping acts, so I try to give long-rib crushing hugs back as much as I can. We closed out Monday night by wrapping the boys up in their blankets like human burritos and promising that if they went to sleep on time then I'd show them pictures of Auschwitz (yes, one is now in a WWII phase).

Tuesday started with the much intisipated and promised Auschwitz pictures and then the final hugs and goodbyes.

Pearl and I traveled to a near by Starbucks to wrap up and post school work. This then lead to reconnecting with a good friend, who just so happened to be working in Detroit, which lead to a 2.5 hour lunch and much to my frustration a stupid parking ticket because we lost track of the time and meter.

The remaining trip home was smooth sailing. A little rain, a lot of sun, and finally a coonhound who eagerly welcomed us home…

…. and is now exhausted and out cold in our living room chair as I type this.