I think it’s fair to say that I’ve been experiencing an eight year-long crisis of faith.
Maybe faith isn’t the right word. It’s been a crisis of church. I feel a homeless, and I don’t know where to go.
Like basically every Christian I know, one of my favorite writers on Christianity and faith is C.S. Lewis. There is a moment in the fifth The Chronicles of Narnia book The Silver Chair where some of the kids and a Marshwiggle named Puddleglum get trapped under ground, and the Emerald queen is trying to convince them that there is no Narnia, that Aslan is a dream, and that only the darkness of the cave is real.
Puddleglum finally says:
Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all of those things—trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is…
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