BEING BORN
I grew up in a fairly typical evangelical home—or so I thought. Maybe we were a bit more fanatical than most. We used to sit around and fantasize about Jesus returning in the clouds and escaping all the suffering of this world.
I remember wondering: would our clothes just fall to the floor when we were raptured? Would our heads hit the ceiling before bursting through it? And what about airplane passengers if the pilot was suddenly taken up?
You know… normal teen thoughts.
(Sarcasm, in case you missed it. I might be a little rusty.)
When I was younger, sarcasm was my go-to humor. My father didn’t approve. Eventually, I buried that part of myself, along with so many other pieces I believed weren’t “godly” enough.
Born Again—But Not Like Before
When people ask what deconstruction feels like, I sometimes say, "It feels like being born again.”
And I mean it.
It’s ironic, I know—because that’s exactly the phrase I heard growing up. But now, it feels more real than it ever did back then.
The old has passed away; the new has come.
Many of the promises I once read in the Bible feel truer now than they did when I first believed—not because I understand them the same way, but because I understand them more deeply.
The Death Before the Rebirth
I didn’t set out to dismantle my childhood belief system. In fact, I thought it was working just fine. I was a wife, a mother, a homemaker. I homeschooled my children. I encouraged others to do the same. From the outside, I looked like the ideal Christian woman.
But inside, I was riddled with anxiety.
Night after night, I tossed and turned, worrying I was ruining my kids.
- Were they learning enough to survive in this harsh world?
- Were they being socialized well enough to build real support systems?
- Had I taught them enough about Jesus to save them from eternal torment?
I was constantly afraid.
So how did I keep going? I placed my trust in Christ—or at least in what I understood Him to be. But that understanding was built on a foundation handed down to me: by pastors, teachers, parents, and church leaders.
Deep down, I felt alone, terrified, and unable to face the emotions that simmered beneath my picture-perfect life. I appeared to be a good, loving Christian woman. But behind the veil, I was crying out for salvation from the madness.
A Simple Prayer That Changed Everything
One day, sitting at my kitchen table, I’d had enough.
I whispered a prayer I didn’t even fully understand:
“I want to know the truth. I don’t care what it is—I just want to know it.”
In that moment, everything shifted.
My old life began to unravel like a worn-out garment. And while I didn’t realize it at the time, I had just stepped into what I would come to call, my resurrection.
Rejection and Resurrection
As I started sharing my thoughts and experiences, the backlash came quickly. Many old friends faded away. Some family members still blame me—years later—for “tearing the family apart.”
But here’s what they don’t see:
That day, I began following Christ in a way I never had before.
For the first time, I wasn’t clinging to inherited interpretations or fearing damnation for asking questions.
My mind was open.
My heart was curious.
I was ready to listen, really listen.
It felt like new life. But not without the pain of death.
Deconstruction Wasn’t the End
Yes, deconstruction destroyed the life I had built. But then… something more beautiful began to emerge.
Or rather—I began to rebuild.
The “born again” experience didn’t come from checking a box or repeating a prayer. It came from my willingness to change, to surrender, and to trust something beyond my programming.
In evangelical Christianity, I was taught that being born again meant choosing to believe—even if it went against reason. But now I see that rebirth often begins with unbelief, with the terrifying but necessary act of letting go.
As long as I resisted, I stayed dormant—full of potential, yet stuck in the dark.
Until I stepped into the light.
Until I realized: salvation was always available.
I just had to be willing to leap.
Until I realized: salvation was always available.
I just had to be willing to leap.
The Divine Voice Isn’t Always Familiar
I used to hear, “God is always speaking. But whatever He says must line up with the Bible.”
That sounds safe, but it kept me trapped. Because I could only ever hear what I already believed to be true—nothing new, nothing that challenged the limits of my understanding.
But if God only echoes what we already know… how will we ever hear good news?
What If You’re Ready Too?
I’ll continue this reflection in future posts, but I’ll leave you with this:
If you want to know the truth, you must be willing to hear something unfamiliar.
It takes faith to leave what you believe in search of what’s real.
It takes courage to unlearn what once gave you safety.
It takes courage to unlearn what once gave you safety.
But if you do—if you stay open, curious, and brave—
You, too, will be born again.
You, too, will be born again.
Love, Can 💕
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