I’ve Lost God, but Not Jesus.

It’s not any different from a lot of the kids from my generation. My parents took me to church. Every weekend. Even if it was something I could have been interested in, I wouldn’t have been. When you’re a teenager you care more about sleeping in than, well, anything.

I used to count the hours of sleep I’d lost over the years compared to my friends who’s parents didn’t make them go to church. I’d get angry thinking about it.

I didn’t grow apart from God, or Jesus. I still don’t know the difference between the two, if there is one.

I didn’t grow apart from God because I never knew him. I was baptized at 8 or 9 years old. I didn’t know what it meant. I actually wanted to be baptized. I wanted to be everything my parents were. And they were baptized. And they were Christians.

When you’re little you can’t really think for yourself. Life is exposure, and I was exposed to church at an early age. You want to please your parents. You want to fit into your family. You want to lay low.

I couldn’t lay low anymore.

As I’ve grown up, I’ve come to realize that no matter how hard I try to get into the routine of getting to know God, I can’t. I’ve come to the conclusion that if I truly believed, it wouldn’t be so hard.

I didn’t quit. There is no quit. There’s just moving on.

I felt bad about the fact that I couldn’t believe in God like my parents. Music became my religion. I’d pray to God, but he wouldn’t say anything back.

At home, religion was right. Anything else was wrong.

I’m not mad at my parents for it. If they truly believe in God, then why wouldn’t they want me to believe in the same thing? The God they worship blessed their life. He’s given them hope, faith, love, and family.

I’ve come to realize that having faith makes us live the life we’re supposed to. It’s not faith in God. It’s not faith in Jesus. It’s just faith. Faith in whatever it is you believe.

It’s my fault for not having the courage to truly express how I felt, and how I feel. If I would have brought it up earlier, it would have been over.

What I haven’t lost, however, is the Jesus the church always told me about. Jesus is forgiving, and Jesus is loving. Jesus was the tool my parents used to instill values in me. When I stray from acting like Jesus, I become less of a friend. Less of a partner. Less of a man.

Christians have found something to believe in. In their eyes, if you aren’t living for Jesus, then what are you living for? They’re no different from anyone else. We all have something we’re striving for, a reason for waking up in the morning. If we don’t, well, Jesus might be the thing we’re looking for. But Jesus isn’t the only option.

When I look back, the friends that I’ve kept in contact with, that are still by my side today, I met them at church. Like me, the majority of them don’t go to church anymore. There’s too much information out there, even if you don’t fully believe in something else, you’ve been exposed to other things, and it at least makes you question some things. Most of us are just in limbo, not truly sure whether we believe in God or not.

I’m not thumping a bible when I say that some people in our world need Jesus. They don’t need God, they don’t need religion. They just need Jesus.

Compassion, love, care, seeing past the hatred and using the negatives to make for better pictures. Jesus would have done that. Jesus wouldn’t have shoved religion down your throat. Jesus would have said to believe, in what makes you, and what makes this world, a better place.