I really don’t talk about faith anymore. Be it in this website or in conversation. In many ways, I do my best to avoid it. I’m conscious about how I phrase things. My fallback is to usually substitute the word “goodness” for God. As in, thank goodness. I’m not going to write about faith today either. Well, not directly. It’s not that I’m opposed to the faithful… or the unfaithful, for that matter.
I’ve said it — and others have too — that I lost faith. When did this happen? I remember the exact moment well, but I suppose it’s really not relevant (to my story). What is relevant is I didn’t exactly lose faith. This would imply I don’t know where it is. Or, that I’m currently looking for it. More accurately, I gently put it down and walked away. I didn’t lay waste to it. I didn’t curse it. I’m not being confrontational. No, I simply chose to set it down and be rid of it.
For sure, this was a turning point in my life. A huge one. In a way, I felt somehow cheated that I devoted a lifetime to it. Suddenly, the magic was gone. *poof* I knew what I was giving up and it was painful to know this was out of my life. I guess what I’m
saying asking is if you know just how badly it hurts to not believe in miracles?
To be clear, I neither believe nor reject a God’s existence. I’m quite certain there is something out there bigger than all of us. That makes complete sense to me. I suppose I just feel like this “something” either simply doesn’t care or isn’t paying attention. The alternative, that I refuse to accept, is it turned it’s back on Ryan. No matter, on a personal level it’s all the same outcome.
This post is more about a process I experienced. I make no claim as to whether I’m right or wrong. I know some might be thinking of quoting scripture to me right about now. This will not help, since I have discounted it’s validity. Really, I’m not worth it, as I consider my faith as water under the bridge. I’m so far downstream now, and the rapids are so strong, that return is most likely impossible… and I lost my paddle long ago. Okay, so that was a weak reference to being up a creek without a paddle. Sue me.
Both, flat-out and round-about, people told me I’m to blame. I’ve been told that I don’t pray correctly. I’ve been told I must forgive before Ryan will heal (i.e., it’s up to Ryan to forgive, not me). I’ve been told I work for the devil. I’ve been told, essentially, that I’m the reason for all of this. Hey, at least no one (yet) has claimed they see demons sitting on my shoulders.
Without a doubt, I do take the low road from time-to-time. Sheesh, I probably can even take credit for widen it by a lane or two. I do try to keep the high road in sight and pop over on occasion. Still, just maybe, there are multiple paths to the same place? Be it eternal oblivion or something else.[poll id=”54″]