Image by aknacer via FlickrWell, I don’t know if I can exactly pinpoint when I started to doubt. I know it all started out subtly then grew. I was raised in a non-denominational church all my life. We believed in “saved by grace, not of works” like a lot of other modern churches today. I have no idea how I started to wake up out of it. I guess my brain just got the better part of me.
Growing up I was really into God and the whole Christian thing. I can honestly say that I didn’t try to force my beliefs on anyone else. That whole part of it just didn’t fell quite right. Though I do think there is a difference between stating one’s views versus pressing one’s views. I was very passionate about god. Both my parents were ordained ministers by the time is was 13. Our family was entrenched with belief. My mother of course was the most zealous of us all always bantering about something with God. It would annoy the shit out of me. I’m not claiming that people who believe in God are unintelligent, but looking at her I can clearly see how she still believes.
Up until somewhere between 18 to 19 it never once entered my mind that God didn’t exist. I KNEW that God existed. I “talked” and “fellowshipped” with him on a regular basis. (Now, it’s only that I understand where people come from when they say they talk to “god” that I don’t think they’re mentally ill.) I went to church with my family every Sunday and Wednesday like clockwork, and I LOVED it. Praise and Worship were my favorite. That’s what I thought God had called me to do in the ministry, I was going to be a worship leader one day. Every time I worshipped I could feel the presence of God right there beside me, inside me, and all around my very being. It was….Euphoric in a way. I guess “feelings” can’t near compare with the truth reality holds in its opens hands.
It all started with what I would I consider basic logical questions. Questions like "Isn’t all this praying suppose to amount to something?," or “How come praying seems so benign when It comes to reality?” It didn’t seem to matter if one prayed or not, situations seemed not to care whether you prayed. And yes I was “patient” and “prudent” and all that nonsense. I mean, I knew I “felt” God when I worshipped and praised him but in my everyday life I couldn’t really see concrete evidence that he was involved in my life. I thought that I used to talk with holy spirit and could “hear” him speaking back, in a sense. Not actual words, more like thoughts. I now realize it was my own thoughts the whole time. After a while of doubt I start making a conscious effort to examine my reality on a regular basis. I started taking into account things like “ does this really all add up and make sense?” in my every day life. Up until this point my only reality was one were God existed above who had sent his son blah blah yada yada…….I didn’t know anything else, but that didn’t mean I didn’t hunger for something real in life.
So I started to read,…..and read…and read. I don’t know, but I guess I’m just different because it was virtually painless, you know….the part where you find out it’s all a humongous fairy tale. I didn’t go through any kind of shock or depression except the part when you realize you’re not going to live forever. That was kind of surreal. I’m over it now though, now I found that I really don’t want to live forever. One day, I want to die. (when I’m old of course) All it took for me was to read about the history of Christianity. Anyone with half a brain can see when looking at its history how the Christian religion is just another run of the mill myth. I’ve noticed when talking people that some of them can literally see the evidence and continue to hang on to their beliefs. I understand the emotional attachment. I just take it they have yet to mature or grow up. Of course, I do live in the epicenter of Christian belief, the bible belt…..Mississippi to be exact. I just get so internally frustrated, Children wanting to hang on to their Santa Clause.
I’m much happier now that I’ve let go of fantasy. Reality’s so much more interesting. I really enjoy reading all the testimonies on this site. I relate and they make me not feel so alone. Where I live I feel like an alien visiting a planet called Mississippi.