I used to be as Christian as they come.
One of my parents is a pastor. (They say that pastors’ children either go one of two ways: all-out rebel or perfect angel, and I was definitely in the latter category). I went to Bible camp every summer, worked at Bible camp in college, majored in religion, did a Lutheran volunteer year, got an MA in theology, and married a pastor.
I was all in.
It seemed my spiritual destiny was settled.
Until one day, it didn’t make sense anymore.
The best way I can describe it is that Christianity just stopped resonating in my body - like there was no place to plug into it anymore.
It was like Christianity said, “okay, enough; I love you, but you’re done now,” and gently released me.
Often, in stories like these, there’s some great religious trauma or injustice to prompt the exit. Not so much for me.
(I mean you can’t be a Christian as long as I was and never have any run-in’s with heterosexist, patriarchal bullshit - so that definitely happened, but it wasn’t the reason I left).
No, I truly believe I experienced the best Christianity has to offer. And it had a lot to offer.
I loved growing up in the church and having a parent for a pastor. I loved the rhythm of the liturgical calendar. Bible camp was a space of so much magic and mysticism that I got married there. In my academic work, I studied cutting edges of feminist and queer theology (that are rad AF.)
Christianity was a space of deep spiritual connection, love, and growth. It was a place where I was radicalized into justice. And there were so many times I felt alive and on purpose in that space.
Today, I see Christianity as a spiritual ancestor that I continue to love and respect.
And even in my departure, I feel the need to defend it - to say that some of the most devoted and radical progressives I know are Christians (including my favorite borderline biblical fundamentalist rabble-rouser: Jonathan Barker) and that there is so much movement around justice and liberation happening in Christian spaces.
But ultimately, I’m sharing all of this to say:
It’s okay for love and devotion to change.
You can love something and leave it. There doesn’t have to be a deep or dramatic reason. It can be a gentle letting-go.
Sometimes (and for some people), the right thing is devotion to one thing, one path, one destiny forever, and other times (for other people), it’s not.
Sometimes, it’s the right thing to move on. Sometimes, new things call us forward, and we feel the imperative to answer them.
Life is dynamic and unfolding and unpredictable, and so are we.
So trust yourself. Your life is for you, and I truly believe you know best how to live it.