As I mentioned in part one, I chose the word reconstructed because of its positive resonance, but I could have also used the word deconstructed. That word seems more negatively charged, but it is simply about the fact that something must be broken down, something must collapse for something new to be reconstructed. All reconstruction must begin with deconstruction, with something being broken down, taken apart. For me, it has been about looking at the parts of my faith and life, and stone by stone, reconstructing the faith, developing it, so that it supports and nourishes me deep within. This has led me, among other things, to find the contemplative path that I try to blog about here in poems and short entries.

The journey has been long, as mentioned, I am now in my fiftieth year, but I feel that something is emerging that I can stand for in the phase of life I am in now and am entering into. Through all I still experience, and maybe even stronger than before, that I am able to see that it is Love with a capital L that holds me, life, and the everything together.

I have never really been concerned with eternal life or living in an eternity in heaven. This does not mean that I deny that some version of heaven exists, but I rather need a heaven over my life now, to put it somewhat clichéd. It simply means that life’s experience is important to me, I want to be true. I don’t just want to believe with my head, but I want to believe because of, but also in the midst of my experience. Here I have even taken life wisdom from the so-called faith movement that taught me that “eternal life” in the Bible does not necessarily refer to eternity as in endless time, but it can mean a God type of life. That is, the life God wants us to experience and live here and now.

I understand that my text now becomes convoluted, but so has my life been so far. And as the poet Rilke described, I experience life in ever-widening circles. For me, in my search and restlessness, it became absolutely necessary to read and read, and read. I had to gain knowledge and perspectives, preferably from authors and wise people such as Henri Nouwen, Michael Singer, Richard Rohr, Thomas Merton, and even the psychoanalyst Carl Jung. These people became my soul friends, and I found a lot to resonate with, and often more so than in church. Had I remained isolated in my context, I would hardly have heard of or learned from these or others. But thank God that I also walked my own path, and that my restlessness forced me to read others’ thoughts, and to ponder and digest these thoughts. I have drunk from various sources and will claim that I have come out stronger for it!

I believe some may fear some of my or others’ opinions and perspectives, precisely because they fear, they may fear that the faith will not hold. Some also have a strong love for the Bible and what they consider God’s Word, and yes, they are actually afraid of falling in sin or even falling away. And yes, for some, deconstruction leads to the loss of (all) faith, but that is far from true for everyone. Rather, there are many who find that a believer who dares ponder questions and read about different perspectives, who dares change “glasses” and see that there are somewhat different answers and different views, finds a broader ground to stand on, perhaps even a spiritual (church) history and heritage that makes sense. I am one of many examples of the latter.

I have also been inspired by the story of Paul. The fact that Paul’s experience on the road to Damascus caused him to turn blind for three days is, for me, a symbol of the blindness we humans can experience in the midst of crisis, both life, and faith crises. But fortunenately a crisis lasts “for three days” and not necessarily a whole lifetime. When the Spirit or one’s inner being experiences an impact, the one who is blinded for a while can learn to see anew, and with that, gain a new view of life. It is really a reconstruction out of deconstruction.

I am convinced that if we take our experiences and the life that God has given us seriously, we will experience that faith changes over the years. But that does not necessarily mean that faith dies, or that one falls away, even if others may judge it so. Over time, one may live more easily with the paradoxes and questions, rather than with the certainty of clear and sometimes false answers. It is precisely in this life experience of deconstruction, but also subsequent reconstruction, that faith and life gain new and meaningful dimensions. And in all this, one does not necessarily let go of the belief in a Love that holds or endures a whole life. But it can become precisely that, which in the midst of everything, becomes the most important, a Love that holds, facing life’s challenges and in the encounter with the meanderings of faith and understanding. And let us be reminded of Jung’s wise thought, what is true in life’s morning may become a lie in life’s evening.

Blessings, strength and peace to you as you do your own walk with, in and through life!

I would love to hear from you and your story if you care to share. Feel free either way!

Translated from Norwegian to English by the help of ChatGPT.