I am going to be candid here…

I don’t know where I stand in the mist of all this. Between atheism and Christianity. The more I try the more I drift. But don’t get me wrong. I love religion, I think spirituality of any sort is beautiful. It’s simply a matter of choosing which one you feel comfortable with, and which will render you a better person. For me, it has been Christianity. God, Jesus Christ, prayer, love, forgiveness. I feel at home with these terms. And if it’s not the belief of Christ, there is nothing else I relate to. Except to not belong to a religion at all — atheism? Atheists can be spiritual too. I think all religions share the intent of guiding us towards righteousness, whatever that may mean. I think they are right, if taken correctly. I don’t see the urge to stress upon a single truth, which is what every religion claims itself to be. Yet, I don’t personally relate to any of them at heart. Not the way I relate to Christ… Kind of.

It’s been a hard battle within. The tighter our relationship, the more I realize that the God I’ve come to know, the God I’ve spoken to in prayer, the God that became my friend, is so different from the God in the Bible. I am so distant from the God in the scriptures. I feel like I don’t know him. And the more I try to open my heart, the more I am repulsed. So is it still the same God?

I’ve heard many testimonies. There was a lady who told her survival story of her and her family. They were on a cruise, struck by a tsunami. Praise God, her family survived. And all she did was praise God for his rescue. Now I’m not here to judge because what she feels is her own and no one can replace it. But all I could think about were the other individuals who did lose a loved one. Mothers who did get separated only to never see their child again. What about them? And how would they feel if they heard this testimony of a woman thanking the merciful God. And I’ve heard the response hundreds of times: God’s plan is different for everyone, we do not understand his ways. Yes, I cannot deny this, but it seems to be merely an excuse; a easy path out of something that just doesn’t make sense. If someone lived, it was God’s grace. If someone died, it was also God’s plan to bring him home. I understand the gratitude or the hurt one is facing following catastrophe, but more than ever, it seems to be another means to make ourselves feel better. Which is fine. But to tell this story to evangelize or in attempt to heal another, it is the least convincing of reasons.

The God I know does not select and choose. If he intentionally rescued one, he would rescue the entire group. If he wanted to kill, there would be no survivors. If one survived and another did not, God was not involved… That is why I cannot blame God for disaster, or thank God for blessings. I just don’t feel that he was in control. Likewise, if God made a Heaven, he would allow the entire world in, regardless of their sins. If he made a Hell, he would send everyone there, regardless of their redemption. If he made Heaven and Hell, knowing that people are destined to be in either one, he is not my God…. I know of selfless non-Christians who do good only for the sake of other people and then would be sent to hell. I cannot withstand the concept of Christians doing good for the ultimate reward of God’s approval. I smell nothing but (unintentional) selfishness. I don’t want to love others for God, or to win my way into Heaven. I just want to love because I love mankind, there is no other reason. Sometimes I wonder what my fellow Christians would say if I died tomorrow. She’s in a better place now? Perhaps I am not…

You know, I love the Gospel, of a man called Jesus who died for everyone on the cross, so that they may be saved. It is, and will be the highest demonstration of love, forgiveness and grace in world history. If it were truly unconditional, then my struggles here would be nearly nonexistent. But there is a condition to salvation, and this condition is not whether or not I love, or forgive, or to live to better the lives of others. It is a condition that I cannot overcome: to believe it. It bottles my mind more than anything. When I think I do not believe, I ask myself whom I’ve been praying to. When I think I do believe, I feel I am lying to myself. When I am with Christians, I relate more to non-Christians. When I am surrounded by non-Christians, I relate more to Christians… I am caught in the middle…

When I think about all the other people who made efforts and sacrifices to do good, and then sent to hell for not accepting, I’d feel extremely guilty to be Heaven. To accept, is one of the hardest things to do. I can follow Jesus’ way in lending a healing hand. I can fall, pray, and stand up again. I can trust that God is good, for I know he is. I can tell the world touching stories of how I accepted Christ, perhaps even convince others into accepting him too, but I cannot lie to myself, I cannot lie to God. I know and he knows how hard I’ve been trying to merely believe. To believe that humanity started with Adam and Eve, to believe the great flood and Noah’s survival, to believe the word of God. To believe that no matter what happens to anyone, it was God’s master plan. I don’t know how to believe it.

The God I know, would never judge me this way: On the one condition to believe in him in order to be saved. But then, I don’t know if I believe in eternal life. So where am I going with this belief anyway? :(

If I offended anyone, I’m sorry. All of the above is personal. They are a collection of my thoughts that I’ve been trying to solve since my childhood. I do not disapprove of faith, if anything, I deeply admire it.



You have become one of my prominent inspirations

You kept your eyes upward throughout all that came your way — never faltering in your belief that somewhere deep inside them all, there was still to be found a heart and soul trying to break free.

You were an Earth angel sent by the hand of the Creator only so as to teach mankind how to love, how to show compassion, to be kind to each other, how to give without expectation…

And how to dance.

Bitter are the tears of a child: Sweeten them.
Deep are the thoughts of a child: Quiet them.
Sharp is the grief of a child: Take it from him.
Soft is the heart of a child: Do not harden it.

– Pamela Glenconner