For those wandering
through the ruins
of what you once believed—
Who watched the truth you were given
bend
beneath the weight of your questions
until it
fractured.
Who stood among its broken pieces
beneath an empty sky,
with no map in your hands
and no name
for what you were searching for.
Who whispered prayers
to a God you were no longer certain
could hear you.
You prayed
and felt foolish.
You stopped
and felt guilty.
You waited for an answer
until the silence
became one.
Who were told
to leave certain things buried,
but dug
anyway.
This is for those who kept searching
because the official story
no longer matched
what you could see
with your own eyes.
Who devoured books
until their spines broke
beneath your hands
and the words blurred
before your eyes.
Who underlined entire pages,
crowded the margins
with forbidden questions,
and carried the words of strangers
inside you for weeks,
tasting each one
for even a trace
of truth.
Who found beauty
in places you were taught
contained only darkness.
You were digging
for an answer
that would not collapse
when questioned.
For a love
that did not have to be earned
through obedience.
For a truth
that did not require you
to cut away pieces of yourself
before you were permitted
to belong to it.
And when no answer fit,
you wondered
if perhaps something inside you
had been broken
too badly
to believe
again.
But you were never broken.
You simply loved truth
more than you loved
the comfort
of pretending.
It is okay
to reject everything
you once knew,
even if they told you
it was the only truth.
Even if they warned
that leaving would make you
wicked,
deceived,
doomed.
Even if your hands still tremble
when you reach toward
everything they taught you
to fear.
There is no shame
in the wilderness
between believing
and knowing.
Sometimes losing your faith
is not the loss
of your way,
but the first time
you are free
to decide
where you are going.
You do not have to rush
toward another certainty
simply because the silence
feels unfamiliar.
You may remain
among the questions
for as long
as your soul
needs.
There is no single path
wide enough
for every soul.
What feels like salvation
to one person
may feel like suffocation
to another.
May you keep
whatever makes you feel whole
and leave behind
whatever asks you
to disappear.
May you understand
that you have not failed.
Uncertainty was never
the absence of truth.
It was the place
where you became free
to find
your own.
—For every lost soul
learning that wandering
can be sacred too