Lately, I have struggled with doubt in God. Does He even exist? Have I been deceived and spent years of my life seeking something that isn't there? Is there an after-life?
I have no desire for prayer or faith. All seems like fairy tales. I doubt the scriptures, the intentions of those who wrote them, and the intentions of those who decided which writings would be included in the Bible.
I imagine humans creating the idea of God in order to give life purpose and meaning, to have something to hope for beyond inevitable death. I think about generations of people clinging to the unseen and how society has been shaped by religious traditions. I wonder if we create our own realities.
I have stopped praying and am questioning everything I have held as truth for most of my life. Strangely enough, I am okay with being in that place of doubt. I don't care for it, but I don't judge or resist it. I let it come to me, trusting that even doubt has purpose in shaping me. The irony of my response, faith in the midst of doubt, hasn't escaped me.
Fast forward one month. Nothing spectacular has happened to change my attitude from one of doubt to one of faith. One day, I simply found myself praying again, trusting. Joy has returned. It was a season of doubt that now has passed.
And in the words of Forrest Gump, that's all I have to say about that.
No comments:
Post a Comment