Exvangelical Survival Guide (Part 2)

So you’ve made it out the back door. You’ve ditched the lock-ins, the altar call guilt trips, and the “Father God” vending machine prayers. Now you’re standing on the porch of your own life, suitcase in hand, blinking in the sunlight.

And here’s the question nobody prepares you for: What comes next?

Tip 1: Don’t Rush to Rebuild the Whole House

You don’t need to reconstruct your entire theology in one weekend retreat. 

Take your time. 
Let the dust settle. 

Figure out what still feels alive and what was just scaffolding holding up someone else’s fears. A shaky foundation built too fast is how we got in this mess to begin with.

Tip 2: Practice Saying “I Don’t Know”

Because of the former indoctrination, it might smart a bit the first few times you try it on for size.

But I’m here to tell ya, it’s holy. 
It’s freeing. 
And it will save you from swapping one certainty-obsessed system for another. 

Mystery isn’t failure; it’s oxygen. Try it at family dinners, try it with old church friends, heck, try it in the mirror. 

“I don’t know” can be the most honest prayer you’ve ever prayed.

Tip 3: Find Joy That Doesn’t Need Permission

Laugh loud. 
Dance badly. 
Drink the sweet tea. 
Go to Pride. 
Host a game night. 

Joy is resistance in a world (and a theology) that told you life was just a waiting room for heaven. You don’t need permission slips to live like you’re already free.

Tip 4: Rewrite the Stories

If old Bible verses still feel like weapons, flip them on their head. 

Read the Samaritan story like it’s about the neighbor your church warned you about. 

Imagine the Beatitudes on protest signs. 

Take what was used to control you and let it become fuel for liberation.

Tip 5: Expect Some Ghosts

Even when you’ve walked away, the ghosts of bad theology show up: shame whispers, guilt pangs, verses echoing in your head like bad pop songs. 

Don’t panic. 

Ghosts lose power when you name them out loud. Therapy helps. So does community. So does remembering: you’re not the haunted house. You’re the one doing the living.

Benediction for Round Two

You left the fear behind. Now comes the building. Brick by brick, laugh by laugh, scar by scar. Don’t be surprised if it feels shaky some days; that just means you’re doing it honestly.

The old house told you God was too small, too angry, too fragile. 

But Love? 
Love is bigger than the rubble. 
Love is already in your new foundation.

So take your time. Leave the door open for others. 

And remember: you’re not just surviving anymore. 
You’re creating something worth living in.