More room to breathe

Why I am changing the name of Courage & Candor

Hello friends, Colette here.

I’m going to get straight to the point: I feel it’s time to change the name of Courage & Candor.

Since its beginning, Courage & Candor has evolved. When I first started writing in this space, I was still in a time of deconstruction. I was wrestling with my own stuff around church, faith, and grief. Since then, it has moved into something more tender, more expansive, and certainly more wild. I needed a bit of courage to allow the natural evolution of my faith to occur and a place to write my honest words. Now, I feel less inclined to fight the usual battles. Though I haven’t been one to jump into the fray of deconstruction, it does, however, come through in my tone. I have been thinking about this for over a year. I continued to feel that Courage & Candor no longer fit, but I felt stuck. Yet, it was only the name that felt this way, as I have been actively wandering through more spacious lands for quite some time.

What’s changing and what’s not

I’m still going to write. I’m still going to show up to this space as my honest self. I’m still rooted in the Christian story, still stumbling towards Love, prone to reflection and the occasional snark. But I am no longer writing with active deconstruction in mind. I haven’t been for a while and I just needed to say it out loud (or on paper).

As I move into the second half of my life, both chronologically and spiritually, I’m settling into a spaciousness of soul. Courage & Candor had a specific direction to begin with, but now feels vague and undescriptive. I’ve wandered off the path of my first intention, and I kind of like it out here. My first essay on this Substack was The Orphaned Church, which addressed my grief about leaving the Evangelical tradition. I was a bit lost and still looking for home.

We’ve outgrown the boxes church often resides in, they simply feel too small to fit the largeness of God and his mission in the world. And our willingness to walk away isn’t in protest or rebellion, we’re still just searching for home.

I no longer feel like an orphan. I found a home. It was within me all along.

Photo by Michael Barnes on Unsplash

Introducing The Spacious Way

I’ve been walking with faith for a long time and somewhere along the way, I realized I needed more room. More room to breathe, to doubt, to hope, to laugh at the absurdity of it all. More space for mystery. For grief and joy to sit at the same table. For Jesus to still matter deeply, even if the old frameworks didn’t.

That’s why I’m renaming this Substack to The Spacious Way.

A place for honest seekers: people who are still rooted in the Christian story, but no longer at home in narrow, rigid versions of faith. This is a place for those transitioning into the second half of life (or who feel like it spiritually).

I will continue to write about faith, life, doubt, beauty, nature, and whatever else is stirring in the moment. Some of it will be deep, some of it funny, some of it might make you feel less crazy.

It’s still me. Just a new name. And a whole lot more room.

Let’s walk this path together

This essay offers both an invitation and a way out.

If you're looking for more essays that contain a deconstruction theme, this might not be the space for you. There are already so many wise, thoughtful voices who are doing the heavy lifting of tackling the big theological questions I myself have tripped over countless times.

But if you’re craving a faith with a bit more room, one that’s less about tearing down and more about living forward with honesty, curiosity, and grace, then maybe you’ve found a soft place to land.

The invitation extends to those who still love Jesus but need a faith that breathes. A faith that makes space for mystery, laughter, grief, second winds, and second halves. If that’s where you are, then let’s walk this path together.

Peace and every good,