Interlude 1

I packed up everything I had brought with me and went back to our campsite, not speaking a word of what had happened to Paul, Shwahh, or Aminah. I showed Carrie my journal entry when I got home and I told her about the experience but I could tell the depth of what happened in the woods wasn’t coming across in my words. I could tell that I didn’t even understand the depth of what had happened.

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There was soap all over the place. The long haired guy who answered the door explained that he and his brother had a “communal home” and that they co-owned a soap company. He didn’t wear shoes. (When I finally worked up the courage and asked him why he didn’t wear shoes, he looked at me like I was the crazy one and told me “they rob you of texture.”) One guy was laying on an ottoman in the middle of the room and spent most of the evening staring upside down at Carrie and me. There was a dude who had changed his name to Shwahh… how you pronounce an upside down e.

Welcome to Ecclesia.

Read more "Holistic"


I realized that my Baptist/Bible Church theology was too narrow. I watched God use Lutheran missionaries just as much as he used me. God spoke through my Evangelical Free friends and my Methodist coworkers. There was room for all of us underneath the canopy of God’s love yet we often bickered over our differences instead of celebrating the fact that God’s love went beyond those differences.

Read more "上帝"


I’ve had a lot of great pastors in my life. Three of them have published books and another should have. Most of them have spoken at leadership seminars for other pastors. However, none of them taught me more about God’s love than Michael Subialdea… and Michael did it without ever saying a word to me.

Read more "Restless"


We were both trying so hard to be what everyone, including the Evangelical interpretation of God, expected us to be. She was supposed to be a dutiful, submissive wife. She was supposed to find her deepest joy in our kitchen or folding our laundry. I was supposed to be a providing, dominant husband. My deepest pleasure was supposed to be in our recliner or taking out our trash.

Read more "Formulaic"


I don’t remember much of our time together, other than it feeling very cold and sterile in his office. However, he punched through my darkness with one question: “Dallas, do you think Jesus would be surprised if he walked into your bedroom and you were wearing women’s clothing?”

I relaxed internally as it hit me that an Omnipotent God wasn’t shocked or surprised. He knew. I could tell him all about “it” and he would listen because he already knew about “it”.

Read more "Tolerant"


The start of college continued in much the same vein as high school: wearing stupid Jesus shirts, going to way too many church events, and half-assing my education. I was the best little Republican Fundamentalist Jerry Falwell could’ve ever hoped for. My Jesus wanted tax cuts for the rich, bombs dropped on anyone who fucked with America, and demanded moral purity via legislation.

Read more "Rigid"