Hi there! It’s so good to see you again.

I haven’t posted a blog since like, what… May!?
Not because I ran out of things to say, of course. Come on, who are you talking to? Sure, I can be silent, but it’s not because I have a lack of things to say. I’m an etymology nerd, I can use words all day long.

But life, man. Life got loud.

The kind of loud that isn’t just about volume…although there is constantly either Blippi, or K-Pop Demon Hunters, or just loud toys assaulting our noise floor here at the Merrill household.

This loud is a kind of spiritual static.
Kids, summer, work, therapy, emergencies, exhaustion.
The kind of noise that comes with long days, short nights, and not enough bandwidth to put deep sacred truths into words, let alone sentences.

And here’s the paradox:

In the silence is where the real work started.

Not performative, not public.
Not polished, not posted.
But real.

I’ve been in the cave. Writing in my mind, rebuilding my inner sanctuary brick by brick, sweeping out the dogmas, whispering into the void, knowing that at one point I had left my faith behind but I can’t help this unshakable feeling at my soul that there’s still something holy here. There’s still a new song that’s begging to emerge.

And I think I’ve found it.

Revelation from Silence, Compost from ALDI

If you’ve been following along on this blog, you’ll know that I’ve been gardening both for food and herbalism.  This silence that I’ve been experiencing feels a lot like my compost pile that’s sitting just outside my window in a little rolling compost box that we got at ALDI this spring.

Lawn clippings, food scraps, dry leaves, all go into this temple of silence and begin to slowly transform.

Not with fireworks. No little jingle.
But with silence. 

time. 

heat. 

darkness. 

and unseen alchemy.

It looks like rot. It smells… questionable.
But given enough stillness and stirrings, it becomes something magical:
Soil. Rich. Alive. Full of potential.

That’s what this silence has been.
Not an absence, more like a fermentation.
Not failure, but formation.
The slow decomposition of what no longer serves,
so something nourishing can rise in its place.

Rich with breakdown and decay, but alive with the promise of fruit.

I’ve been dreaming and drafting what might be the most important work I’ve ever written:
a Systematic Theology.

(A systematic theology is just an organized way of explaining your beliefs about God, humanity, and the meaning of it all. Basically, it’s me putting all my beliefs in one place so people can’t say, “You’re just making this up as you go.”)

This isn’t a theology of fear, control, or empire.
It’s a theology of embodiment, mystery, and divine interconnectedness.
This theology is a map for those who still care about Jesus but can’t stand what’s been done in his name.
It’s for the ones who left the church but never stopped aching for the truth underneath it all.
It’s for the burnt out, the exiled, the deconstructed who still feel a flicker.

What I’m building isn’t about certainty. It’s about resonance.

Not dogma, but depth.

Trading definitive answers for divine alignment.

Why a Theology?

You might be wondering: why bother writing a theology at all?

Because theology still shapes the world.
Even bad theology has consequences: political, psychological, relational, environmental.
The stories we believe about God shape how we treat ourselves, our neighbors, and the Earth.

If all we ever do is deconstruct the broken systems without building something true in their place, we risk leaving people in the wilderness with nothing but rubble and good intentions.

I don’t want that.
You deserve better.
We all do.

I’m not here to tear down your faith. I know what it means to believe.

I grew up inside a 25 year living and loving relationship with God. That is until the theology I was handed started to suffocate the Spirit that I had intimately known all along.

I didn’t “walk away” because I just “stopped believing”.

There’s a running joke amongst the Deconstruction community that we’re not drop-outs, we’re Graduates. While I find that to be a bit pretentious, I do think there’s some truth to that because I didn’t walk away.

I walked deeper in… past the labels, past the identities, past the frameworks, past the fear of rejection, past the doctrines that couldn’t hold the weight of love.

What I found wasn’t a new god.

It was the same Spirit, more alive than ever, pulsing through everything.

This is a theology where “Christ is King” doesn’t mean some goofy form of theological tribalism. It means radical surrender to the Love that holds the universe together.

The Blog Is Becoming the Movement

This blog …The Way of the Source… was never meant to just be a place for my thoughts.

It’s becoming the hub of a movement.

A new kind of spiritual community is quietly forming here.
Not defined by buildings, denominations, or doctrines…
but by resonance, reclamation, and remembrance.

The remembrance of who we are,
where we came from,
and the Love we never left.

I’ll be writing more in the days to come:

• Finishing the eBook “How Not to Lose Your Friends and Family While Losing Your Religion” a Field Guide for Deconstructing Christians who value their relationships
• Drafting chapters of this Systematic Theology
• Finishing the memoir that started it all

And I want to bring you along the journey for all of it.

Not because I have the final answers, but because I’m willing to ask the deeper questions and give new language to the God beneath the wreckage of the faith that failed me.

Let’s Begin Again

So, if you’ve felt the silence too, I just want to say thank you for waiting.
Thank you for still being here.

Maybe the quiet has been working on you too.
Maybe your roots have been growing deeper, even if nothing has seemed to bloom.

How it works in the soil is often how it works in the soul.
First the dark. Then the sprout.

First death, then life.

Resurrection.

We’re still in this. We’re still becoming.

Let’s begin again.

Thanks for reading! Let me know in the comments what’s been speaking to you or giving you life lately. There’s only a few of us here, so let’s connect!