One year ago I was crying in my shower trying to figure out how to move forward. I had begun to come to grips with letting go of our first twin to identify as transgender, relinquishing control and trying to accept a new role in our relationship as the burgeoning independence of adulthood was born for him at the start of attending university. Then the unexpected strike of our second twin going down that same path of transgender identification sent me into a tailspin. My mind was reeling, frantically revisiting all the thoughts I had almost put to rest. I needed some way to wade through them and find a path out of my despair and loss. So began my blogging expedition: “One year in my journey of faith, family, and forgiveness.”

In less than a month, that year will conclude. As it comes to an end, I want to attempt a wrap-up of each of the three areas of my journey as a transparent parent of trans twins.

A year ago, and for most of my life, I was quite certain of my belief system and the manner in which one should go about living out their faith. At the beginning of my blog, I thought I would negotiate my way through these issues of gender, faith, relationship, science, and so on, and find answers and conclusions. I intended to be open-minded about the undertaking, but I felt like I had an idea of what I desired to accomplish and that my pursuit would facilitate change in my twins’ choices as well.

The cool thing about writing, though, is that if you’re honest with yourself as you go, you learn and change through the process. You uncover information about topics and facts, but even more, you unearth truths about yourself and your beliefs and what lies underneath the surface.

Turning fifty and empty-nesting are natural milestones in one’s life that often initiate reflection and sometimes cause challenge and discomfort just because of the great changes and transitions they represent. When you throw in three grown children who are going in directions that diverge from the prescribed, traditional Christian path alongside a growing dissatisfaction and uncertainty with the status quo of institutionalized faith and religion, you have a recipe for turmoil and questioning.

I determined that if my life’s dreams were shot to hell, and my faith experience was not providing comfort and answers, then all bets were off and every area of my life was eligible for scrutiny and excision. For several months, I engaged in incessant reading, studying, questioning, and challenging – exploring topics of faith, gender, sexuality, religion, genetics, evolution, medicine, psychology, scripture, inspiration, and doubt.

I attended classes on the Old Testament and Christian Doctrine. I met with a friend who is a theologian. I listened to a podcast entitled, “Who God Says You Are: A Christian Understanding of Identity.”

I had thought that it would be pretty easy to find Biblical support for a consensus on gender.

However, I did not find consensus on much of anything other than the uncertainty of interpretations and the requirement of trust in something outside oneself to continue in the act of belief.

The Old Testament professor suggested that referencing male and female in the Bible might indicate a merism, a term in rhetoric that is the combination of two contrasting words to refer to an entirety, leaving open the possibility of more than two genders from the very start.

My conversation with my theologian friend revealed three possible perspectives on scripture and gender:

• God created male & female and assigned traditional gender roles as part of creation
• God created male & female and traditional gender roles are a part of the fall
• God created persons and humans constructed gender

From those perspectives, he moved into ways for handling gender incongruence. Those who hold that God assigned our gender roles would tend to promote living in accordance with one’s biological sex and managing the dysphoria. People who see gender roles as part of the fall are more likely to support living according to one’s gender identity through physically reversible ways. Individuals who view gender as a human construct generally find it appropriate for transgender persons to live according to their gender identities through physically irreversible ways.

It was unclear to me which perspective this friend held, only that all were potentially valid viewpoints that different people of faith subscribe to.

The podcast on identity focused on sexuality rather than gender, but approached the issue from a fairly traditional, conservative perspective, noting that attractions are not sin, but actions are, indicating that living out attractions that are deemed Biblically unacceptable is outside the bounds of permissible faith practice. The speaker did include the suggestion that if the church isn’t going to talk about appropriate heterosexuality, it shouldn’t even start talking about homosexuality. He also expressed that while some scholars feel the Bible is very clear about homosexuality, others strongly disagree, making it an issue of interpretation. The best point he made was that faith is about participating with Christ, and that Christians ought to be discerning on ethics, but not discriminating against people.

My disillusionment about life’s unfulfilled expectations along with the lack of consensus regarding gender and sexuality caused deeper digging and contemplation of serious inquiries into my values, my confidence in my belief in God, and what I wanted from the remainder of my life. Who is God? What does it mean that we believe the Bible is inspired? How much of my life has been about just doing what I should? How much has been about living up to something? In the cutting loose of unhealthy beliefs and discarding extraneous practices, would I still hold on to a belief in God? Could I even imagine not believing? But does hanging on to something without actually considering all the possibilities have merit? If it is worth embracing, then shouldn’t it be able to withstand scrutiny and opposition and come out standing on the other side?

All of my studying in Christian doctrine, contemplating the origin and inspiration of scripture, considering the plausibility of a prime mover, and deeply searching for truth did not unlock certitude for me about God’s existence and the specificity of Christian doctrines about God, grace, and humanity. It did, however, reassure me of rationality in belief, and that it is not necessary to check one’s brain at the door to sustain faith.

Francis Collins is a world-renowned scientist and one of my favorite authors who describes his reasons for faith in several of his books: The Language of God; belief: readings on the reason for faith; and The Language of Science and Faith. He was transformed from a child unexposed to faith and religion to agnosticism and finally to faith. I lean on his words as I continue to claim my own belief in God.

“…as I was beginning to understand from looking into my own heart, the evidence of God’s existence would have to come from other directions [than science], and the ultimate decision would be based on faith, not proof.”

I humbly hold that we are made in the image of God and that I don’t really know exactly what that means. To me, the image of God conjures impressions of the mysterious, creative, and chaotic, which I believe can quite accurately describe humanity, the world, and our universe. Reading the Bible, attending church, singing hymns, and praying can all be good things, but they are not what keep me connected to the God in whom I believe. Listening to mourning doves cooing, reveling in the vivid colors of a sunset, feeling a cool breeze tingling on my face. Hearing a haunting melody, witnessing a dancer’s lithe body bending rhythmically, running my fingers across the raised texture of a painted canvas. These are the elements of worship that draw me to belief. Beauty. Art. Nature. Sensation. My heart experiences these captured moments in time, and I know that there is something beyond me. Something that is mysterious, creative, and chaotic. And by chaotic, I mean uncontrolled and beautifully wild. There is something…or someone…transcendent.

This beautiful creator of the universe made a world in which we could experience joy, peace, beauty, and love. He also gave us freedom, just as he gave the universe freedom, so we additionally encounter pain, suffering, ugliness, and evil. In The Language of Science and Faith, Dr. Collins said, “That nature has freedom is highly provocative and theologically suggestive. God created the world with an inbuilt capacity to explore novelty and try new things, but within a framework of overall regularity. This is the way the world is. Following God also means understanding what kind of a world he’s brought into being in which we are participating.”

For the church to be a witness to this God of mystery, creativity, and chaos, I believe it should be the most humble place in the world. It should be full of the most humility ever to converge in one place. It should be an institution of humility, aware of its position of not being God – not passing out certitude but instead humble and personal assertions of belief.

My faith is mine. I hold it humbly, knowing that I am not God. I am not in charge of the universe. I am not in charge of most anything, including my own autonomy. I humbly believe I am valuable and simultaneously realize the value in every other person I meet. I believe true humility does not mean putting yourself down. It means seeing yourself clearly for who you are and who you are not.

My questions remain mostly unanswered, those regarding gender and those regarding faith. That used to keep me up at night, obsessively and uncontrollably reciting what I thought, believed, wanted, desired, and wished, trying to figure out, understand, and fix. Through this year of study and reflection, I’ve grown calmer and more confident, even as certainty has been replaced with diffidence. Acceptance is providing the way for sleep to return. I am so thankful for this journey and the companions with whom I’ve shared it. Feeling hope once again is a happy result.

The God in whom I believe is good and strong. I throw myself on his mercy, appealing to his image within me to bring something transcendent to my little corner of the world.