Gotta Have Faith

This is about to go more deep & meaningful than I usually tread. Be warned ...

It's probably not common knowledge that after I lost my dad, I went through a serious period of doubt concerning the existence of a higher power. This was pretty traumatic for me, as I'd never before even considered that God might not exist. I'd always been certain that God did exist. But the more I thought about it, and the more I comprehended the pain and suffering and complete random cruelty of the universe, the more likely it seemed to me that we are just one big cosmic accident.

I got over that, needless to say. I have my faith back, and I'd say by now it's pretty well unshakable. But it's changed. I no longer consider myself a Christian. I believe Jesus walked the earth, performed miracles and said some pretty amazing things in parables, but I don't believe he was the be-all end-all savior, that he's coming back to earth, etc. Maybe someday I'll go into what I do believe, but that'll suffice for this post.

On Sunday I did a favor for my mother -- and it was the last time she'll ever get that particular favor out of me, I've decided. She asked me to go to church and I said okay. It was so, so uncomfortable. First, singing the hymns and praying the prayers that I don't really endorse. It felt wrong. Although I might not label myself a Christian any longer, I still have respect for the church and the religion, so to me, it seemed extremely disrespectful and blasphemous for me to be paying nothing more than lip service by participating in church.

Second, the sermon itself ran counter to just about everything I've figured out for myself in the past couple of years. It was difficult to sit there and listen to it when what I wanted to do was stand up and explain to the entire church (including the sermonizer) how very wrong they are. Of course I didn't do that -- I played the Magic Eye trick with the front of my hymnal instead; its title is Sacred Selections, so I made the two capital "S"s in their fancy script line up, over and over and over again.

It was a good lesson for me, however, in what I will and won't put up with. There are some things I will do with and for my mother out of love, even if I don't particularly feel like it. But compromising my personal beliefs is not one of them, and that's what it felt like I did. I think it's good that I went, because now I know what one of my lines drawn needs to be and where it needs to be drawn. No more church for this girl.