One morning in November I woke up to the sound of nothing. I felt no heavy weight or dread of the day. I was fully awake for just one small moment before I opened my eyes. And as I opened them, the first thought I had was, "I don't believe in God."
It caught me off guard to say the least. When you spend 4 years of your life struggling and wrestling, pursuing and pondering, falling and rising, searching and praying for some connection, some change, some anything from or with God, you'd think I had at least formed some special endurance. Or that enough tension had built so that I'd have some climactic breakdown where I finally completely and totally lose my shit. But I woke up, and that was my very first thought for the day, followed by a small audible sigh of relief.
Beyond that small relief I felt very little. I felt rather removed from myself, and quite curious as to the implications of this new thought, if any. I still don't know what those implications are, I have a slow brain, and I suspect it will take a fair bit of unraveling. I never really felt like writing about this in a blog until today. I did not want some grand facebook status update renouncing my faith, it did not seem necessary, and still does not. But perhaps there is some worth in just writing things down. Maybe someone cares? I dunno.
So I'm not a christian anymore. And that's a strange thought, because it's all I've ever known. I barely ever figured out what it ever meant to be a christian, or what it looks like, and now I'm suddenly starting all over. I wish I could say I had a less selfish reason for deciding I don't believe in God. Many people have a plethora of moral and social issues with it all, or have been burdened by the church. I've never really had a problem with the church. It's never been perfect, but the communities I was apart of always seemed to be in the right mindset, and moving and acting with authenticity and love.
What it comes down to, really, is I never connected. I never felt change. I never knew God. I never saw the fruits I was supposed to bear. There was no transformation. Not even progress. Always stagnant, always stuck, always confused. The small moments where I felt like I was onto something, where I thought the spirit was moving in me and doing things, were just as fleeting as any other pleasure or emotion that I experience.
So I suppose the reason I bring this all up, is to say that I sometimes wish I still did believe in it. And there may come a day when I find myself in that spot of believing again. Life is still so unbearably confusing and absurdly daunting at times that I wish there really was someone moving in the universe who had my best interests in mind, who loved me and I knew it, who helped me when I needed it. But prayer always brought disappointment, and I used it as a crutch to do nothing about myself or my circumstances. I know that's not what prayer is there for, but like I said, I never could quite grasp any of this. So today is one of those days that I wish I could believe it. I cannot. And that kind of blows.
Gabriel
