Every now and then I question my faith, or lack there of.
I see people post things on twitter and tumblr and facebook about their faith, and His will, and how their life is up to Him, not them, and I just can’t figure out quite how I feel about that. I wasn’t brought up on any particular faith, maybe that’s why I don’t understand it, but I’ve worked really hard to get where I am and I have a hard time giving God, or some higher being, all the credit for that.
But then I think about things I didn’t have control over – I was born 2 months early. A majority of babies born that premature either don’t make it, or have serious health problems because of it. Plus I had to be on oxygen, which can cause serious brain damage. I was expected to be slow, under-developed both physically and mentally. But I came out fine. Better than fine, I came out smart, and tall enough, and pretty capable most of the time. My scholarship – while I did work really hard to get into school, keeping my grades up and scoring high on tests and junk – I was number one on the waiting list for Carthage’s Hayes Scholarship. Number one. Where I call that luck, and my mother calls it “meant to be,” a lot of people would be thanking God.
Some of my relationship things too. I mean, sometimes I think if Travis hadn’t joined the Navy our relationship would be in a very different place. I wouldn’t have started talking to Sean more, Sean never would have told me how he felt. Travis and I wouldn’t have become emotionally distant because we wouldn’t have had the communication problems distance causes. Should I be thanking God for that? And for putting Sean in my life through a relatively wordy turn of events?
Speaking of Sean, he and I talked about religion a bit a few nights ago. I asked him if it ever bothers him that I don’t really have any solid beliefs, because Sean is very much Christian. He said it does sometimes. It’s been bothering me a little since then – not a lot, not actively – it just sort of sits in my brain and dances around when I’m sitting idly.
Sometimes I want to believe something, especially knowing it’s important to Sean and his family, but a lot of the time I’m not even worried about it. It’s not something that plagues me – I’m not searching for the answer the way some people do. I don’t feel like I need it – not yet anyway. And maybe someday I will, and maybe that will be the day God finally decides to give me the sign I keep asking for, because every Christian I know says if I open up and ask for a sign He’ll show me he’s there. Or maybe that’s the day I’ll decide I don’t believe. I don’t know.
I keep remembering when Zander’s grandmother told him he and I would never last because I wasn’t Lutheran. Our relationship was going pretty smoothly until that weekend. That’s kind of where everything started to fall apart. Not that I believe it had anything to do with my lack of faith, but on Zander’s part I think it may have.
I also keep remembering back when all the Cain sister drama was going down, and Jessica blamed me for Sean not going to church, or something like that. When I remember that I get a little antsy. Which is silly because I told Sean just a few days ago that if he wanted to go to church, regardless of my beliefs, I would go with him. Most of the time.
I just don’t know. Tonight must be a searching night.
I think it’s funny that I’m so fascinated by religion, but have no idea what I believe. I love learning about different cultures, religious beliefs, and practices, but I don’t hold any myself.
What if one day, in my learnings, I discover a religion I really connect to? That would be good right? Some form of spirituality?
But then again, if it’s not some form of Christianity it could post new problems with the people in my life.
Why does this single being who we can’t even prove exists cause so many problems and so much inner turmoil?
Peace, Love, and Serenity,