To believe…
A phrase that has made me question a faith I have held so dearly. I was in a state of utmost confusion, maybe possessiveness at the thought that I had to let it go. Like a child being ordered to share what they deem to be theirs.
At least for the meantime —
The question of whether I will ever return to the faith is a tricky one hence the reason behind this existential philosophical questioning I tend to bother myself with.
It started with the discontented feeling that arose when reading John 3: 16, the basic cornerstone text of the faith and what I considered my way of life.
Every thought and every decision I would make would be filtered through that lens. That feeling I often encountered when I came across the phrase “believe in him” , that phrase would always leave a feeling of falseness…
Of doubt —
Not in what I read but in what I believed… “Do you believe in him?”
It was a question I often avoided for fear of not being able to come up with an answer or rather I knew the answer all along but admittedly was too afraid of facing the consequences the answer would bring,
“What would this mean for me moving forward?”
“Do I stop gathering with the saints since I might not be one of them?”
“What do I say to my family?”
“Do I say anything at all?”
“Would this be another problem I would have to keep to myself and find solutions to on my own?”
I was never ready to partake in this mental exercise so like everything I do with things I do not want to deal with, I bury.
At least until now…
It wasn’t long before I grew tired of digging —
digging beds for my forbidden thoughts to rest. It was like in true Christ-like fashion these thoughts refused to stay dead.
Maybe because of a mission it needed to fulfil, a purpose that had been ordained to bring about my destined state of confusion and questioning.
Coming to terms with this lingering way of thinking, the uneasiness I felt whenever I heard the word triggered my attempts to convince myself that the stories of old, creation, and miracles were true,
They had to be,
My identity and the peace I sought depended solely on whether I could answer “Yes” to the echoing question. “Of course, I believe.”
“How couldn’t I?” “Why shouldn’t I?” But it often ended with “Why can’t I?”
That then led me to my next question —
“Can I force belief ?”
I have wrestled with that a lot and have watched my two trains of thought spar with each other through the times. The side I always cheered for usually took the belt —
At least for the time being.
However, now I think I’m more comfortable in the space of “I don’t know,” That was the only answer my mind could come up with whenever I poked at the ever-intrusive question
I am not “for the matter” because I cannot back that statement with conviction nor am I against it because I can’t be swayed otherwise…
I’ve tried
I’m just in that uneasy middle constantly wrestling, constantly fighting
I have left that part of my life alone because it is one that I refuse to fake but it is something I hope to get the answers to…
preferably before I meet the afterlife
I think it is an honest place to be in for the meantime —
I am content with that, there is a peace in that.
