From a journal

I don't journal often but this morning I found this excerpt from 2002:

My feet are stuck because I'm afraid to move forward alone, mostly because I have only questions with no answers, so I don't even know where to go. But, I can't return to the "comforts" of my God from the past few years, because my mind has moved beyond that point and the comforts of having answers, disciplines, succinct theories and a body of friends who believe the same things are no longer comforting and can no longer satisfy me. I'm stuck - as if I'm on that stairway to cross the Potomac River into Harper's Ferry - too afraid to move up or down because any change in balance causes a wave of nausea and vertigo - thoughts of plunging to the ground far away - falling through the sky, the unknown, only to be smacked by the very real, very solid rocks below. Is God there in the rocks, waiting to smack me because I let go? or because I went up the stairs in the first place? Is God in the unknown, the sky, a feeling of exhilaration due to fear and fun all at once? Do I need to wear a safety harness?

All of these questions have answers in my old paradigm, but I've jumped ship and even if I jumped back on board, I would not stop hearing the call of the sea to jump back in. My arms need to pull, my feet need to kick, my lungs need to expand with breath to hold me afloat.

Do I end this time with prayer? That seems hypocritical. Or is it just faithfulness at a time when true faith really shines... at a time when there is no answer? Is my desire for prayer due to habit or true yearning for my creator? Have I been created by anything more than Contingency, Law and Deep Time? I think that I hope so.