The Faith Hall of Fame, Deconstructed. Week 1
Quick recap: On Tuesday we met Abraham, who “set out, not knowing where he was going,” leaving a father who had started the same journey and stopped halfway. Today we get practical about the season Abraham started in: the early days, when you know you can’t stay but you can’t see the road yet.
There’s a stage of this nobody talks about much. It comes before the hard conversations and the holiday tension. It’s the quiet part, when the knowing is still mostly private.
You’re sitting in the same pew, or the same group chat, or the same family dinner. Nothing has visibly changed. But inside, something has. You’re carrying a question no one around you knows you’re carrying. That can be one of the loneliest places a person can stand.
So here are a few things to hold this week. They’re ways to think, not rules to follow.
1. You don’t owe anyone an announcement. Abraham didn’t have a plan when he left, and you don’t need one before you’re allowed to question your faith. You get to decide when to tell, who to tell, and how much. Some people want to be open early. Some need a long, quiet season first. Both are allowed. Waiting isn’t dishonesty. It’s pacing.
2. Name what you’re leaving, and what you’re not. Deconstruction can feel like everything is falling at once. It usually isn’t. Try sorting it into three piles: what I can’t carry anymore, what I still treasure, and what I honestly don’t know yet. Abraham left his father’s gods. He didn’t leave his capacity to love, to worship, or to hope. Neither will you.
3. Your people may be Terah. If someone you love can’t follow you, try holding the possibility that they came as far as they could. That doesn’t mean their words don’t hurt. It means you can grieve the distance without deciding they’re the enemy.
4. Find one safe witness. Not a crowd. One person, one therapist, one online space where you can say the true thing out loud. The early days are too lonely to carry in total silence.
