I wish that I could recount in this space what I have been discovering in the past few months. I am documenting constant revelations in my trusted Moleskine, and as I thumb through the worn pages I cannot help but smile. I feel as if large blocks of grand skyline have been torn down inside my mind, crumbling ruins surround me. Dilapidated skyscrapers that once held prominent ideas and concepts from my youth, ideas of politics and theology, concepts of relationships and presuppositions, all have been destroyed. These things have always been a part of me, until now.
I have taken a shovel to a mental hill and an axe to my former thoughts. Ruins are great, if they are then cleaned up and planted with something else. Small seeds will be scattered and sown in the once foreboding tangle of thorns that was in my mind. I hope that those ideas will be rooted in the resurrection and in the Kingdom. If they are not, then all the pain has been for naught!
All I know is that amidst the glorious wreck of my theological and political identity I can smile, because it is glorious ruin.
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See, Surprised by Hope for more iconoclastic ideas
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