So for the past couple of weeks or so, I lost my faith in God. Entirely.

Yep.

Part of the time was spent turning to science, whom by the way, I’ve always had a slight love affair with but never really understood to the point one can have an intimate relationship beyond flirtation. Another chunk of my mind was left dwelling on the possible ways I could deteriorate my health to where I wouldn’t have to exist in a rather senseless world without a “god” for an extended amount of time because humanity is surely on a timeclock running down to the date of it’s own destruction anyhow, and why hang around for that? The vast majority of the past twelve or so days have been me literally fighting to suppress my gag reflex, which every couple of hours would kick in and the overwhelming sense of throwing up everything that is and was and will ever be me came surging from my gut towards the roof of my mouth. I don’t think I’ve ever quite used the terms “I’m sick” and “I don’t feel well” quite as much and in such a truthful state ever in my life.

Then there came an overwhelming fear of believing there WAS actually a God. How do I know I have the right Messiah? What makes my decision anymore valid than any Jewish/Muslim/Hindu person? Why is my Enlightenment better than that of a Buddhist? What if I have this entire thing all wrong and God doesn’t appreciate my misguided zeal for a potentially false Christ? I’m worse off for believing than doubting, in this case, though in both I am sufficiently deficient in the eyes of an All-Knowing Deity whom (rightfully) demands worship. What if I’m doing everything wrong? It’s a common warning in every proclaimed Holy book. I now ironically have TOO much God; I have too much belief and not enough confidence in where to put it.

To summarize, it hasn’t been the best past couple of weeks.

Here’s the thing. You devote your life to something - I mean you REALLY devote your life to something, down to giving up the absolute most important things/people you swore to yourself you could not possibly ever live without - and then you do something stupid. You become comfortable. Complacent. Bored even, with the secure knowledge that you have in a God, His love for you manifested by a historical figure who historically died on a historic torture device for relatively well-documented reasons, and you fail to challenge yourself beyond this zone of comfortableness. People don’t believe what you believe? Oh well. It’s okay. You know what you believe. People outright disagree with you? That’s okay. They don’t “get it”. Those who “get it” are beyond question.

Questions are pretty damn important, though.

How do you know what you really believe if you don’t, in the most severe way, question things? Human nature is naturally inquisitive. We all like to know, to some extent, how things work. We’re curious. We learn from this, and then we create. We create theories and ideology. We create products and inventions. We create systems and order. We create beliefs and disbelief.

One strange thing that seems to exist unilaterally throughout human history is a pervasive sense of God (or gods, but for the sake of my rambling, I’ll refer to just the one). God, of course, is an easy way to write things off to. The Sun rises because of God. The wind blows because of God. But in this educated time, when there is an explanation to all things, God still exists. The Sun DOES rise because of God. The wind DOES blow because of God. Just because you know how things happen doesn’t exactly mean you know WHY they occur. Hence God exists for some because there is a reason for why things are the way they are, yet there is no meaning behind it. God is meaning.

You have to ask and question these things sometimes, I guess. I won’t get into the idea of needing meaning vs. lack of meaning because I’m getting kinda sleepy and this is sort of a separate rant in itself, for another long night, maybe.

Onward.

There are many arguments for my doubts on all sides of the spectrum. No God, some God, this way to God. The past 48 hours or so have been spent with me re-acquainting myself with the God who initially changed me so completely. Jesus (known to some, including me, as the Christ) are on pretty good speaking terms now. I’m more than slightly embarassed at admitting doubt in Him, but at the same time, how are you supposed to believe things - I mean really believe things, without losing everything?

You get to that point and then you’re back to the start, where you first met Him, and that is all you have.