Mom
Ten years ago, I never would have thought that our beliefs would become so reversed. I was a devout Christian back then--I even tried to convert some of my friends who weren't already immersed in the path of righteousness. Mostly, I just ended up pissing people off, and there's nothing new or surprising about that. Back then, I was afraid that my mother would go to Hell and burn for all eternity. It never made sense to me that God was omnipotent and yet was compelled to let this happen--but the Sunday school teachers told me that it would all make sense later, so I shut my mouth and kept on harassing my mother. She took it as well as any mother of a zealot could, and kept telling me that she had no intention of going to Hell, since she did believe in God. Well, I never saw her praying, and surely that meant she wasn't devoted?
This went on for about a year, maybe less. Then my church broke up in an ugly court battle (don't ask me for the particulars, as I'll never understand it), and my family and I were left to flounder. Well, not literally since we did have lives, and such. I lost most of my religious self then, which is not surprising. My "spirituality" wandered, and life was more about angst than anything.
Since then, I've lost most of the angst, but if anything, my faith is mostly gone. All that's left in me is the urge to capitalize "God" and maybe a tiny cringe if I hear a really offensive joke against my old beliefs. I can't bring myself to renounce it since it was such a big part of my life, but I can't call myself a Christian either without feeling like a big liar.
So it's surprising to me when my mother uses religion to help me regain some perspective these days. She trusts God implicitly, that everything that happens has a reason for happening. While she says these things, I can't help but scoff as my logical mind rejects her words. I'd like so much for what she says to be true--life would be so much easier if I could just leave it up to God and his will. But I can't. So with a heavy sigh, I thank her for her effort, and hang up the phone. Then the funniest thing happens as I realize that despite my skepticism, I do feel better about life.
Maybe my faith hasn't died completely at all. Maybe I never really believed, but my mother is pushing me along. Or maybe this has nothing to do with faith and it's just a nice thing to have someone truly believe that everything is going to be alright.
This went on for about a year, maybe less. Then my church broke up in an ugly court battle (don't ask me for the particulars, as I'll never understand it), and my family and I were left to flounder. Well, not literally since we did have lives, and such. I lost most of my religious self then, which is not surprising. My "spirituality" wandered, and life was more about angst than anything.
Since then, I've lost most of the angst, but if anything, my faith is mostly gone. All that's left in me is the urge to capitalize "God" and maybe a tiny cringe if I hear a really offensive joke against my old beliefs. I can't bring myself to renounce it since it was such a big part of my life, but I can't call myself a Christian either without feeling like a big liar.
So it's surprising to me when my mother uses religion to help me regain some perspective these days. She trusts God implicitly, that everything that happens has a reason for happening. While she says these things, I can't help but scoff as my logical mind rejects her words. I'd like so much for what she says to be true--life would be so much easier if I could just leave it up to God and his will. But I can't. So with a heavy sigh, I thank her for her effort, and hang up the phone. Then the funniest thing happens as I realize that despite my skepticism, I do feel better about life.
Maybe my faith hasn't died completely at all. Maybe I never really believed, but my mother is pushing me along. Or maybe this has nothing to do with faith and it's just a nice thing to have someone truly believe that everything is going to be alright.