ed. note: this was originally posted about 2.5 years ago on my first and now defunct blog…but I find myself revisiting these thoughts recently and wanted to share them again.

There was a time in my life that I was, believe it or not, obnoxious. Yes! Although no one ever said so (at least not in so many words, and not to my face), I think I really was. My convictions were many, and powerful. They were entities unto themselves, with lives and personalities of their own that would periodically take over my thought processes and cause me to launch into lengthy dissertations about the right-ness or wrong-ness of certain things. It was heady stuff–knowledge with certainty; there was a real power in standing upon my soapboxes, above the milling crowds of go-with-the-flow types.

However, as I grow older, I find my supply of soapboxes dwindling. Things are simply not as black and white as they used to be. For example, I used to believe (really!) that *anyone* could homeschool, and that *everyone* should. Now I actually concede (shhh…don’t tell!) that “regular” school can actually work for some children.

I used to expound upon the benefits of homebirth–now I find myself heading to the hospital (on purpose, no less!) to have baby #11. I used to rant against intervention–now I’m looking at an induction for this little one. I used to rave that natural childbirth was the only way to go, the absolute best for mother and baby, and anyone who would stoop to drugs was a wimp. Okay, so maybe I never thought that, but I confess to feeling a certain superiority over those who chose the route of pain relief. Now, yep, you guessed it, the epidural is my friend.

I think I’m just tired. Let’s face it, unwavering devotion to an ideal requires energy. I have little to spare anymore. This does not mean I’m abandoning my core beliefs, although I have felt a little ashamed of myself of late. I have wondered, who am I without these convictions? Am I still a radical? I want to be radical. I believe I am, more than ever before, a Jesus Freak.

The problem lies in letting these peripheral ideals get so interwoven with the idea of what makes a good Christian that they are inseparable. So I’m doing some untangling these days. Some un-twisting of those peripheral things, and I’m finding that it’s all good. What I’m mostly letting go of, I find to my suprise, is pride. I’m seeing that too often the ideal becomes The Point, rather than a simple, pure trust in God to work in my life, no matter what the circumstances.

I’m letting go, little by little, and building up the pyre of soapboxes until I find that the chaff in my own soul is being burned up along with them. It’s painful at times, but from the ashes rises that most amazing of phoenixes: grace.

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