When I was a kid, I went to church every sunday…not because I wanted to, but because that’s what my family did on sundays. I didn’t really even consider if I believed in anything they were preaching. When I was old enough to develop free will, I labeled myself agnostic, and stopped going. I decided I needed proof, before I could believe in something like that; I had already been burned by the whole santa claus and tooth fairy thing.
Even 5 years ago, as I sat in my home office, frustrated and sad by my long stint of being unemployed I clung to the agnostic label. One day, I threw my hands in the air and said “dear god, something needs to happen, anything!!!” within minutes, I heard an explosion, and looked out my back window, only to find that my car had been set on fire by a random arsonist who was never caught…Even then I chalked it up to an ironic instance of timing, and kept on believing that I didn’t believe.
Then a few years ago I learned that a very dear friend has been fighting cancer, and without thinking about it, I found myself praying for her.
That’s when I realized, I guess I do believe in god– otherwise, why would I pray?
Now, do I believe in the whole jesus died for our sins/organized christianity thing? Not so much, I’m not a fan of the heavy judgement that goes along with organized worship. I don’t need a prada-wearing pope telling me how to have faith…but I have come to realize very recently…yes, I believe in god.
let’s just hope he still believes in me.