I spend a lot of time thinking. Probably too much time. A lot of it is spent remembering. Today is May 5th and other than it being Curtis’ birthday (one of the few birthdays I am capable of remembering) it is an anniversary of a day that is not remembered by anyone except me. Thirteen years ago I was confirmed at Christ Lutheran Church in Regina. And that feat—for those who don’t know—was two years of weekly classes, retreats and a host of other events. But it was also a lot more.

For all the time I have spent remembering, I rarely think about my early Christian self. Part of me doesn’t believe it ever happened anymore and part of me just doesn’t want to remember. Part of me is embarassed and other parts are sad. But in every way, those early experiences have everything to do with who I am today.

I was going to write out my entire Christian history, but it wasn’t that interesting. What I can say is that I don’t know what to do with Christianity anymore. What I mean is my thoughts are so far from where I started that it’s hard to keep that same definition of Christian. In some ways, I have changed but the term hasn’t. Or not enough, anyway.

I am not saying that I don’t have faith, but I am saying that I don’t know how to reconcile that faith with even the loosest definition of being a Christian. That being said, I won’t be going to the Unitarian church (sorry Adam), but—as always—it’s all still very confusing. Or perhaps I should say mystery.