People often come to me when they are in the throes of spiritual crisis; when the doubts and the questions and the conflicting voices have finally overwhelmed them. I know that place well.
There is a suffocating panic that often comes when we are forced to confront the disorienting truth that we may no longer believe the things we’ve always believed or be sure of what we’ve always been sure of.
When our circumstances or our experiences or our own inner condition cause the fault lines of our faith to be disturbed, nothing is spared. Our once fixed, immoveable ideas about God and prayer and love and life and death and religion and Hell all become dislodged and unstable, each sending massive shock waves into the other.
We are soundly shaken.
In those terrifying moments we strain desperately for bedrock, for answers that will bring immediate peace and stop the tremors. We turn…
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