If God Exists

 

Does God exist? Yes. No. I don’t know. 

I was never one of those church kids who had doubts, who was constantly walking the aisle to get re-saved or to re-dedicate, who questioned where I would go when I die, who questioned God’s existence or goodness.

From an early age, the beliefs I’d been taught took root and I never thought to question them. When other kids talked about struggling with doubt, I couldn’t relate. My only questions were “How has God always existed?” and “Does He really know how many hairs I have on my head?” The vague answers requiring faith that my dad or my Christian-school teachers gave me always satisfied me. God’s existence and my belief were never issues.

I suppose my life-long unwavering belief is why my current doubts and questions have turned my world upside-down and left me on a tilt-a-whirl of shame and sadness. It doesn’t help that most of the people I’d considered friends and family hold unwavering, evangelical Christian beliefs and can’t (or don’t want to) understand what I’m experiencing. It’s not like I flipped a switch to doubt and can flip it back to belief.

I used to think agnostics and atheists were evil people. I couldn’t understand how anyone could question (or not believe in) God’s existence. In fact, I couldn’t have imagined even talking to one for fear that their beliefs (or lack of) would somehow rub off onto me. Right now, though, some agnostics and atheists are the very folks who are saving my sanity.

What plenty of Christians don’t understand about agnostics and atheists is that many of them used to be devout Christians. And, yes, some of them have been deeply hurt at the hands of the church. The journey out of Christianity and religion and the church has been long and painful for so many. I can certainly relate to parts of that process.

Even as I still sit atop the fence, wavering between desperately wanting to believe and not being sure that I do, these are the people who are kind and encouraging, no matter which side I end up on. These are the people who don’t ask me condescending questions and assume the worst. These are the people who can empathize with the doubt and the ache and the questions. Strangely enough, these are the people who express love like the church should, who welcome the outcasts, who tend to one another’s wounds.

If God does exist, maybe he has an unfailing love for the people who know exactly how screwed up and damaging religion can be and who ran as far away as possible.

 

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