Reconstructing Faith When the Dust Settles
The Other Side of Deconstruction
This article is the third in a series exploring deconstruction. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments I would love to hear about your experiences with deconstruction and the church.
When the Dust Settles
We’ve all been there. We wake up one morning and everything feels different, even though nothing around us has actually changed.
Maybe it’s after a breakup, when the same songs we loved yesterday now seem hollow or even painful. Maybe it’s after a betrayal, when a once-trusted friendship suddenly feels like a lie. Or maybe it’s after hearing a piece of news we can’t unlearn—when our entire worldview shifts in an instant, when a moment of clarity eclipses everything else.
As much as I have sought revelation, insight, and knowledge in my life, I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that you cannot undo an epiphany. Moments of clarity, as wonderful as they are, often come with a cost—a paradigm shift that challenges the status quo. In the religious world, this is the beginning deconstruction.
The Reality of Deconstruction
We don’t wake up one day and decide to deconstruct our faith. Deconstruction isn’t a choice; it comes to us, bangs down the door, and then sits in the middle of our living room floor like a giant blob of reality that demands to be acknowledged. It crashes in uninvited, sticks around far too long, and disrupts everything we thought we knew.
This happens when the foundations of what we’ve come to believe start to crack. Perhaps prayers that once felt powerful now seem empty. Maybe the answers we've been given no longer satisfy the questions we can’t ignore. Or perhaps we see the people who taught us faith fail to live by it. When those things happen, the murmurs of deconstruction become deafening, and eventually all encompassing.
But what if deconstruction isn’t the end? What if it’s an invitation to something deeper, truer, and more life-giving than we ever imagined?
Why Deconstruction Happens
Deconstruction happens when our lived experience clashes with what we’ve been taught to believe. Maybe we witness hypocrisy in the church, suffer personal tragedy and the answers given to us feel hollow, or read the Bible with fresh eyes and realize it’s more complicated than we were led to believe.
Or maybe, just maybe, we refuse to live a lie any longer. What used to feel real now feels inauthentic and in opposition to everything we are becoming.
For me, that moment came when the plans I had been pursuing—a life of ministry and God-ordained purpose—came to a screeching halt when I was laid off from a church that I had dreamt of working at for years. The disappointment was crushing, and the confusion suffocating. I had built my entire identity around this calling, sacrificing so much to follow what I believed was God’s plan. But in that instant, it felt like the foundation beneath me had crumbled, leaving me disoriented and questioning everything.
Was I ever really called?
Had I misheard God all along?
The uncertainty was terrifying, but it also forced me to confront what my faith was truly built upon.
What to Do If You Find Yourself in Deconstruction
The goal of deconstruction isn’t to be left with nothing—it’s to clear away the noise and the pieces of faith that aren't yours so that what remains is unshakable. This means stepping forward with both courage and humility as you begin to reconstruct your faith.
Get to the Core of What You Know to Be True – Strip everything away to your core truth. What is left? For me, it was the undeniable reality that God had saved me when I felt I wasn’t worth saving. That was a foundation I could rebuild on; I even wrote a book about it.
Give Yourself Permission to Let Go – Not everything we were taught about God is true. Some beliefs were shaped by culture, fear, or control rather than by Jesus, and are taught to us as law. It’s okay to release what no longer holds up under scrutiny. Even if you’re unsure about a topic, put it aside and allow the process and God to reveal what you should bring with you.
Pay Attention to the Voids – As the things around you are deconstructed, you will notice new gaps—places where certainty once lived. Rather than rushing to fill them, sit with them. Let them teach you. Often, these gaps point us toward what truly matters. For me, this was church. I had to release my need for a faith community in order to rediscover a deep desire for one that truly gave me life. I had to also determine what was important in the church I chose and what was not so important.
Each of these is not a hard and fast rule; they are guidelines to assist you in YOUR process. Yours will be different than mine, and it should be, as we are different people and that is part of the beauty. I hope that you have as clear a core as mine was, because that helped me immensely in finding the road back to wholeness. Ask God for help, it will come to you in ways that align well with the journey you are on, and reminders will surface both in your heart and in your experiences.
Living a Reconstructed Faith
For a time, it’s okay to sit in the rubble. But eventually, you must ask yourself: Do I want to live among the ruins, or do I want to rebuild? Deconstruction is necessary, but staying in that place forever can leave us spiritually homeless. The goal is not just to tear down, but to clear the way for something true, something that can hold the weight of real faith. If we only deconstruct without rebuilding, we risk becoming stuck in cynicism, exhaustion, or disillusionment. At some point, we must shift from tearing down to building up.
And while the deconstruction process may feel like everything is falling apart, in reality, it’s making space for something new. Just as a home cannot be rebuilt on a faulty foundation, faith must sometimes be stripped down before it can be reconstructed. The expectation is that it will be built back in a way that is stronger, more authentic, and more life-giving.
At some point, the work of rebuilding will come easier. Walk into and through it with intentionality, expectation, and trust, knowing that God will knead and mold your pliable clay into the solid foundation needed to move forward. Some principles to keep in mind:
Own Your Faith – Your faith may not look the same as before, and it may not look the same tomorrow, and that’s okay. What matters is that it’s yours—not something inherited, forced, or performative.
Hold Faith with Open Hands – Certainty is an illusion, remember, faith is an adventure. True faith makes room for questions, mystery, and growth.
Engage with Community – Many leave the church after deconstruction because they believe they can’t find a community that aligns with their journey. But faith was never meant to be lived in isolation. There are countless communities of faith out there that will celebrate whatever stage of the journey you are on, or nurse you through it if that is what is needed. If you haven't found that community, keep searching, they are everywhere.
Put Faith into Action – A reconstructed faith should lead to transformation. How does your faith move you to love better, serve more, and embody the grace you’ve received? If your faith isn’t leading to transformation, then it might be time to ask: What am I holding onto, and why? Expect transformation, it is there for all of us, at every level.
Leave Room for Mystery – Faith isn’t about certainty—it’s about trust. If we could explain everything, faith wouldn’t be necessary. A healthy, reconstructed faith makes room for questions, doubt, and wonder, all while trusting that God is bigger than our understanding. Engage in spiritual practices that allow for uncertainty—prayer, contemplation, and reflection—knowing that God is present even in the unknown. Not every question will have an answer, and that’s okay. Thankfully, and hopefully, God is bigger than our understanding.
The Invitation of Deconstruction
Rebuilding your faith doesn’t mean returning to the past—it means moving forward with a renewed, authentic belief. Take time to reflect: What parts of your faith bring you life? What practices draw you closer to God? Faith is not a static destination but a living, evolving journey. Embrace it with curiosity, courage, and hope.
If you’re in the midst of deconstruction, take heart. This journey is not about losing faith but refining it—letting go of what no longer serves you and embracing what remains true. Lean into the discomfort, ask the hard questions, and trust that God is present in the process. Deconstruction is not the end; it’s an invitation to rebuild something stronger, something more authentic. Keep seeking, keep questioning, and know that you are not alone in this transformation. This is not the end; it is the beginning of something new.
The faith you build on the other side may not look like the one you started with, but it will be real, tested, and unshakable in ways it never was before.
What if God is using the unraveling of faith not to destroy you—but to lead you into something deeper, stronger, and closer to Him than you ever imagined?