“I don’t believe in anything…”
That’s the first thought that popped into my head this morning. When I opened my eyes, before I even lifted my head from the pillow, “Pop”…there it was. Like a billboard. Where the hell did that come from was my second thought, my first cognitive thought of the day. The previous thought I have mentioned seemed to have been waiting for me to wake up…”Just add light” it seems.
It was such a profound occurrence that I just laid there for a bit…perplexed. I looked at my watch, 5:15 am? I had just slept 9 hrs straight.
Uninterrupted.
I never sleep more than 4 hrs at a stretch. Never.
And what didn’t I believe in anymore? The thought wasn’t specific in that point…just there.
I knew that Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Boogeyman were all safe, but what wasn’t?
I sat up on my bed and swung my feet to the floor, bending over and running my hands through my hair like all sleepy people do. With my fingers arranging the bed head I had been styling all night, looking at my toes, I saw a The Bible at my feet.
Oh…that again. Now I knew.
Let me add some insight to myself.
I am big on signs. The kind of signs like a raven at your window.
A 4 leaf clover in a cow-pie. A shooting star during the day. You get my point. This was a sign.
I am somewhat superstitious. I don’t worry about walking under ladders, stepping on cracks or opening umbrellas in-doors but, I will wreck my vehicle to kill a black cat. Sorry cat lovers, get a Tabby.
Now….my serious part. I am answering my own questions honestly as I write this.
Do I believe in God?
No, I don’t. Not anymore. At least others portrayal of “God”.
I don’t know what caused the change of heart exactly nor can I explain it really. Did I ever really believe? I can’t honestly answer that now. I was raised as a Christian. I’ve been baptized several times. I have felt the spirit move in me. I know people that live a godly existence. But I have never been “quiet” in my soul. For me now, there are too many contradictions…nay, questions and dilemmas I cannot ignore. I wish I could.
I believe the Bible to be an inspired text. The greatest book ever written, other than “David Copperfield” by Charles Dickens that is…
Its teachings are the base of the “Christian” world. The Jewish faith holds the first 5 chapters of the Old Testament sacred. I love reading it, but I know that it was written and “edited” by men. To this day, Christians do not have the complete “Bible” that was written. Men have controlled its publication and distribution. I am NOT a biblical scholar and I won’t get into semantics about it, but this I do know. Men are flawed. The translation of the Bible is flawed. Everyone knows this, but they ignore it. It is truly an inspired book, or so men claim, as do others for The Quran, the Torah, The Book of Mormon or Dianetics, etc.,.
You know what gets me? That anyone of a particular faith has an answer for just about every possible scenario other people throw at them on why their religion is wrong and theirs right. That kills me!
Judge not, that ye be not judged. Matthew 7:1. But you hardly ever hear the later part of the following verses…Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye. Matthew 7:5
How do we know our religions are right or the “true” religion? Do you know how many religions there are on this planet…that we know of? People of faith say “The bible is unchanging and perfect”…What?! The Bible is believed to have been written over, how many years ago? And people think that nothing was lost in translations from language to language…church to church? We can’t even translate known languages properly! Come on people.
Don’t get me wrong. I think people that have the ability to maintain their faith are incredible people. I truly envy them. They seem truly happy and satisfied in their beliefs.
I don’t have that anymore.
I told a cousin of mine that now…my faith is like a chalk board that has been wiped bare by a hand. You can still see the forms, but there is no content.
This is the first installment of exploring my…loss of faith? I don’t think it is a loss of faith. I still have faith in many things. I have not lost faith. This is an awakening to the fact that I am experiencing a change in my life.
That there is no Hell and no punishmeThat Heaven is reaching ones true potential and true happiness in this life.
Guilt and regret are created by man.
I wasn’t born guilty. But I learned to be.
I wasn’t born regretful. But I learned to be.
I didn’t know what sin was until I was over 8 years old. If I wasn’t born with it, I don’t have it.
I was born with awareness. Pleasure/Pain…Right/Wrong…Common sense…Concern about others.
I am not guilty for what my parents did or did not do. My kids are not guilty for what I’ve done.
Any description of God or the concept of a God, or what I believe a God to be, would never allow guilt or sins to be passed down generation to generation. That a 5th generation grandson can be punished for something a 1st generation ancestor did! Doesn’t that go against all the definitions of repentance, forgiveness, absolution or atonement that churches preach? It’s stupid to even consider it!
What is happening in the world today would never be allowed by a loving “God”. He would not stand for it. It never would have happened in the first place. He’s all knowing…right?
If he’s there…then he has turned his face from us. But, I now believe…we have created this mess. Man has created this hell. Man created “God” to teach society morality and structure and to control, and that was critical and necessary I believe. If we had not had a “God”, we would have destroyed ourselves long ago. We still tried our best to do so, and are still endeavoring to complete the task. Soon my brothers…soon.
But, who has the right “God”? Navajo’s…Mayans…Sikhs…Zulu…Holy Rollers…Witnesses?
There are beautiful things on this earth. I see them every day. I believe in a “God” of my own understanding. One that creates all this beauty around me. One that celebrates my free agency to make my own decisions. One that knows I am a big, fat, dirty truck driver…and never asks which church I belong to or faith I follow.
Matter of fact…”God” has never actually spoken to me. But I hear “me” all the time.
“God” is in me. I do believe in that.
Everything Hurts & I'm Dying 