Welcome to The Spacious Way

A reintroduction and an invitation

Hi friends, Colette here.

The moment I realized I needed more space in my faith journey was inside a church. As I sat and listened to the sermon (while my ego silently rewrote it for the pastor), I noticed small rays of light coming through the windows. It was a great feat that the sun was attempting, since the windows were covered in cardboard to keep the stage well lit. I began to feel the heaviness of the walls around me, closing in, shutting out the light. I yearned to see the sky in its full glory. Nothing else mattered in that moment; no sermons or great music. I just needed to rip off that damn cardboard and let the sun win. My original Substack, Courage & Candor, began after that moment. And for a year, I continued to rip off the cardboard metaphorically and literally. I started a Wild Church soon after leaving that community and traded a traditional Sunday morning for a walk in the woods.

“She brought me out to a spacious place; she rescued me because she delighted in me.”

Psalm 18:19

(My translation, with feminine pronouns because God is bigger than grammar.)

I’m no longer interested in ripping down the cardboard. I’m not anti-church. I’m just pro-breathing room. Less walls. More Awe. The Spacious Way started way before the name change. I grew tired of tearing down and just wanted to hug a friggin tree. I spent the first half of my life “doing” stuff for God, now I just want to be with God, unencumbered by the labor of tradition.

I have felt a slow shift from needing answers to Presence, from programs to soul. The church plays a vital role in helping build a foundation, a place to stand. I deeply appreciate my years of growth within the walls of a church. My love for scripture was born in those walls. A passion for music and art found fertile soil within my tradition. Yet when certain gifts began to grow, I found they were often not welcomed. The heartbreak and betrayal I felt were profound. All is forgiven now, but forgiveness isn’t conformity. It’s a freedom that says yes and no, at the same time. Yes to the parts that brought growth and no to the parts that kept me underground.

My soul simply needs more space than tradition can offer.

A new spacious path

The mystical path has become open air for me. Following in the footsteps of ancient Christian mystics such as St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, and not so ancient, like Thomas Merton and Thomas Keating, and still living like James Finley and Richard Rohr, has led me out to a spacious field. Jesus and the saints are there with me, wondering in awe and guiding me to see in a new way. I still “attend” church, but it’s now beneath a canopy of trees and only once a month. Communion is still taken but not until we acknowledge the land from which the bread and wine came - directly from the Creator. God is still Father but also Mother. This new path has given me what my soul longed for, yet I recognize this path is not for everyone. I am not elevating my path above anyone else’s. It’s not the norm and some may think it heretical. I’m fine with that. Yet, I have discovered that the Shepherd of our soul is often found in the field and not in the barn.

Honest seekers

The Spacious Way is for honest seekers transitioning into their second half of life. As certainty fades into the background, a sacred emptiness replaces it. This space no longer scares us as it once did, which led us to fill, fill, fill that space with stuff and knowledge and activity. Call it mid-faith, mid-life, or mid “what the actual hell is happening.” There’s something sacred about not having it all figured out. When the ego tires of the treadmill, the True Self emerges to lead you beside still waters. My hope for this space is to become a river bed for rest and a post held for honest wrestling. For those who long to remain rooted in Jesus but feel untethered from tradition, there is space for you here.

About the new logo

You may have noticed the new logo.

It’s not just a pretty picture; it’s a watercolor my mother painted, long before The Spacious Way. My sister, who passed on some time ago, lovingly framed it. More than art, it is a reminder. A reminder that beauty is passed down. That love leaves a trail. That even as we walk forward into spacious places, we carry sacred things with us: the grace of those who shaped us, the memory of hands that held us, the quiet faith that continues through color, brushstroke, and breath.

This little image anchors The Spacious Way in something real. Something tender. Something that came before me and somehow still walks with me.

What to expect

Reflective essays. Invitations to hold tension and embrace paradox. Gentle, honest theology (with a dash of spice). I won’t always be consistent, but I’ll attempt to get an essay out each Sunday. Sometimes I’ll write about spiritual stuff, sometimes I’ll write about random life stuff, like getting older and trying new hobbies. I’m not interested in building a platform or a name for myself. I just want to write and have a genuine connection with others.

When you first begin to feel like an outsider to traditional faith, it can feel like being dropped in the wilderness without a map. It’s disorienting, lonely, even scary. I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to sit in a pew and feel like an alien. But I’ve also discovered something: the edges are not empty. There’s company here: sacred, strange, beautiful company.

If you’re craving a gentler path, one with more room for mystery, humanity, and real connection, then you’re not lost. You’re just in a spacious place.

Let’s walk this path together.

See you out on the trail,