Blessed are you standing among the ruins of a faith
that once felt so sturdy,
now turned to dust under your feet.
The certainty you once had, gone.
The community you loved, dissipated.
The hope you held dear, hard to find.
Instead, what’s taken up residence
is the very stuff that seems counter
to what you imagined:
Disappointment. Doubt. Disillusionment. Despair.
In this new landscape, may you practice the courage to find the others
who make space for your questions without easy answers,
who celebrate doubt when it makes room for more faith,
who search high and low for a defiant hope born amidst despair.
Bless you, dear one. You who don’t give up wrestling.
who have eyes to see something new being rebuilt on top of what was.
Blessed are you who walk away wounded, yes. But changed.