#whatdoibelieve

I was raised in a Christian home, Southern Baptist to be exact. There was a multitude of rules, the way to live was strictly outlined, and for pretty much all of my childhood, I reveled in it. In my teen years, my religiousness flourished and it became my identity. I would have sworn I’d never doubt it. Even the slightest suggestion of doubts made me feel guilty and anxiety-ridden. I simply didn’t consider any other alternatives because I knew what I believed and the foundation of my beliefs was strong and ingrained. That was enough for me. My beliefs defined me.

And today? I simply don’t know. I don’t know what I believe and it terrifies me. Things that used to feel so black and white, suddenly feel shortsighted, inadequate, and even intolerant and ignorant at times. Religious people and their piousness and prejudices repulse me. Churches make me uneasy. Doctrines seem almost ludicrous.

When I hear people talk of prayer, it’s often for things that seem so inconsequential that I’m baffled. If God hears our prayers and answers them, then why waste time on trivial things? Why not cure world hunger? End tragedies? However, if God hears our prayers and still does whatever He wants, then why pray at all? The world seems so big and problematic, that it’s hard to imagine wasting God’s time with your lost cat or your child’s cough.

As an adult, it’s hard for me to ignore that there appears to be a direct correlation between religiosity and lower intelligence. I look at these people, many of which used to be my best friends and think “is this really the way it is? The way God is?” The thing is, it was easy to never questioned before because I trusted my parents. This, Christianity, is what they told me is truth. Though they both still say they believe, neither of them attend church or participate in anything faith related. If they really believe this is truth, then why don’t they embrace it? Why not do something about it?

Since the beginning of time, myths and stories have been told to explain things people did not understand. Explanations were made to offer comfort or control behavior. Is the Bible any different? Is a Rainbow really a promise from God? Or simply an arch of colors formed in the sky, caused by the refraction and dispersion of the sun's light by rain or other water droplets in the atmosphere?

When I look at naturally beautiful things, it’s hard for me not to imagine something bigger than myself, bigger than this world. The Grand Canyon, the expanse of the oceans, the grandeur of the mountains, the miracle of childbirth - all of these things make me think that it can’t be all by chance. That this can’t be all there is.

And the most pressing question of all: what do I teach my children? How do I answer their questions?