The Reckoning and the Rebuilding: A New Way Forward After Deconstruction
When Faith Unravels: The Valley of Dry Bones and What Comes Next
There are seasons when words come slowly, and there are seasons when they arrive with urgency, pressing to be spoken. Lately, I find myself in the latter—writing not just one book, but three. Each of them is a thread of the same larger story, capturing different places within me that reconcile healing and growth.
A devotional, offering a tender, somatic approach to faith—one that meets people in the marrow of their lived experience. Titled: Known: Finding God, Yourself, and the Belonging You Were Made For is the first in a 6-book series. Click here to experience the first week and the practice of silence—a space to slow down, listen, and meet God in the quiet
A reimagining of the Dark Night of the Soul, because faith isn’t just light and certainty—it is also shadow and unknowing, and these spaces need to be honored. Click Here to experience a 10-day space of stepping into a modern take on St. John of the Cross’ The Dark Night of the Soul. Click Here to read more about this project of Reimagining the Dark Night of the Soul.
And this blog post for the book (Potential title: The House That Fell: What Comes After Deconstruction …Coming Soon), the one taking shape in real-time, the one that holds the raw and sacred work of deconstruction.
For those who have walked this road—the unraveling, the unmaking, the slow reckoning of what faith once was—I see you. I have walked it too. After 25 years in ministry, I spent a decade deconstructing the structures that no longer held me. I know what it is to stand in the wreckage, to wonder if anything will be rebuilt. I know the anger, the grief, the longing for something real.
But this book is not about tearing everything down, nor is it about rushing to rebuild on shaky ground. It is about what comes after. It is about the valley of dry bones, about learning to listen to what still carries breath. It is about embodiment—because faith is not just a set of beliefs, but something we carry in our bodies.
This work offers a path forward—one of discernment, self-agency, and deepening spiritual maturity. It does not give quick answers, but it offers space. It offers breath. It offers a way forward.
This is a book about deconstruction, but more than that—it is a book about becoming.
A Somatic Exercise: Breathing in the Ruins
If you are in the midst of deconstruction, take a moment with me now.
1. Find a quiet space. Sit, stand, or lie down in a way that feels natural.
2. Close your eyes. Notice your breath. Is it shallow? Is it held?
3. Without forcing, invite a slow inhale. Imagine you are standing in Ezekiel’s valley, where the bones have scattered, where the wind is beginning to move.
4. As you exhale, whisper this question internally: Can these bones live?
5. Pause. Notice. What shifts? What remains?
There are no right answers here, only space for listening. The breath does not demand belief; it simply arrives, filling the spaces left empty.
What Comes Next?
I’ll be sharing more as the writing unfolds. If this speaks to you, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Where are you in this journey? Where have you found breath in the midst of the undoing? Drop a comment or message me—I want to hold this space with you.
If this resonates, share it with someone else who might need these words. More to come soon. 🖤
