Over the weekend, Michelle and I had some good conversations. There is a big part of me that is always in process - rethinking where I've come from and where I am and where I still need to go. Fortunately, I've got a gift from God in my wife, who is frequently willing to help me walk through these things.

Well, as we were talking, I realized that despite how mind-bending my little world seems to be at times, I'm actually in a really great place. Because of the hard work of stripping down my theology and doctrine and expectations of God, church, etc., I've kind of come full circle. Initially the "conversation" of emerging culture/emerging church/postmodernity/whatevertheheckyouwannacallit excited me and gave me hope that I could employ new ways of thinking within my current context. Then it became clear that this was unlikely, and then it was flat out impossible. So I quit. Quit the stable, traditional church gig and launched out into whatever it is that I'm trying to do now. After nearly a year of "this" I understand that I've continued to move, grow, and develop. And I think freedom is the best word to describe where I am.

I pretty much suck at church planting, but I have the ability to continue on this road, and I'll do that until God tells me to do something different. I could also go get a regular job, and do the church planting thing on top of it. Those two options have been there for me for a while now, and I'm good with either of them. But my lilttle moment of clarity the other day came when I said, "You know what? I actually have the freedom to go back into a regular, traditional church context, doing 'full-time ministry.'"

I'm still re-experiencing my "angry young man" stage, and I'm still pretty bent at what the church in America has put together. And yet, I actually think my renewed anger is beyond the rebellious/revolutionary indignation that I used to feel. My anger is now tinted with grief and sorrow and compassion.

If I were to get hired by some traditional church, I'm pretty sure I'd still need to love them with my size 11 Doc Martens. But I can honestly say that it would love. Instead of saying, "I can't believe how selfish, prideful, and petty you people are! You really bother me right now" I could say, "I'm sick to my stomach at the way we've bought into a wrong set of values. There's a better way right in front of us, but it means discomfort, sacrifice, and a different mentality. We've settled for a sham. Let's agree to love one another enough to get over this crap. This way is harder, but make no mistake - it is better."

More easily said than done, I know. I have no idea whether this will ever happen. All I'm saying is that God has brought me far enough to where I have the freedom now to do it.