the bound identity.

Praying in tongues has been awesome in its own right, but has additional awesomeness in the form of this: Nothing else seems quite so crazy as it once did.

I've reached the pinnacle of what I had regarded as bizarre. I've done the one thing I never thought I would. I've arrived.

I was thinking about this today, while trying to figure out how I'd field my worst fear: any of my friends or family finding and reading these last few entries on tongues. Now, see, it used to be that I was worried about them finding entries that show me very vulnerably seeking God, or taking refuge in a literal conception of Christ having atoned for my sins. I would think, "Oh my gosh...what am I gonna do if they read this line about my loving God?" or "They're going to think I've lost it when they see the sheer emotionalism of my faith."

Now, though, I've got that stuff. Please. I got it.

Any of that pales in comparison to my experiences with tongues. The me who writes about tongues makes the me who writes about Christ look like a Unitarian Universalist. That is, I now look crazy in the worst way. So my fears have been realized. But I'm still alive--I am living through the fear. Which gives me an odd confidence in admitting my faith, if not my prayer habits, to my friends and family, if it came up.

In a weird way, my abandoning myself to tongues, and then writing about it, has in a very short period of time done two things. Firstly, it has begun to redefine and solidify my self-identity in a way that is giving me more courage than I've had to live as a Christian. Secondly, it has re-framed most of the issues for which I once felt so much concern, giving me a sense of freedom in dealing with those issues publicly.

And yet...I'm still wondering--if asked, how will I deal with this issue? Will I be comfortable making any mention of it to friends with whom I've shared the most fabulous, and the darkest, moments of my life? Will they think I'm crazy? Will I defend the practice to my wise-cracking father? What will my mentors say?

There is freedom here, from things I had felt were binding me. And yet...I'm then just bound by something new. A new fear. Another something "crazy."

Identity is fickle, but Truth is eternal. Which will I seek?