|Yarn Bombing in Germany|
One night I went to bed a devout Christian. The next morning I woke up an agnostic. Without inviting it, disbelief has entered my very being. I feel like it is peering from behind every corner.
I am being stalked by cynicism. Cynicism is sly and stealthy. He might run in the same crowd as The Fog and various clones of Insanity. He's here to ruin my peace and rob me of my faith.
I do not want it. I willfully dismiss it, and yet skepticism creeps into my every thought. Moments that should be spiritual and inspiring have become negative and suspicious because Cynicism hovers nearby.
“If God wants me to have a girl, He will send a girl.” My pregnant friend and mother of two boys says to me over fro-yo.
“That’s dumb” comes the unsolicited opinion of Cynicism in my head. “You’ll have a girl if the sperm with two X chromosomes meets up with one of your eggs and fertilizes it.”
I feel annoyed at the voice of my stalker.
Does God really answer prayers? Suppose my friend prayers for a girl. And she gets a girl. “ Yay!” She says. God answered my prayer.
Suppose she gets a boy. “That’s okay" she says, "God wanted me to have a boy. He still answered my prayer with the baby that was supposed to be in my family.”
So what was the point of the prayer?
Someone tells me that my friend has misconceptions about God, and maybe I have misconceptions about God too.
Out of nowhere Cynicism crashes my parties and disrupts my prayers. I feel a little panicked. Rebellion doesn't suit me. I've always walked the straight and narrow. The idea that God isn't real both fills me with horror and shame. Am I foolish for doing things I've always done, believing things I've always believed, trusting people I've always trusted?
It has me totally freaked out. Feeling disconnected from God is not just frightening but lonely.
And yet.. there is a sort of pseudo-freedom that comes with apathy. Singing songs at the top of my lungs and shouting the cuss words without guilt is all cool if God isn't real. Right?
One thing is for sure. I'm going to find my way out of this, and I'm never going back. Glossed-over, superficial answers will not satisfy me. I want the real deal. I want the truth.
A friend sent me a link to this blog post which contains the following words.
"In the broken down moments, the moments of previously unfathomable distress and despair, in the moments where all our best selves can think to do is pray more earnestly, we have a choice. We can ruminate on what a well intended teacher spouted off in a thoughtless moment that now seems sickeningly saccharine. We can delve into the areas we all have of our testimonies that are yet green, perhaps dark, underdeveloped or unexplored. Or, we can reach for light, for truth, for stability and safety. This is not some desperate act of a delusional, wounded being to lie his way into a false sense of security. It is an act of clarity and incalculable courage, commendable and brave. We can reach for God and watch brilliant truth resonate it's way into our souls, one moment at a time, luminescent and satiating."
I'll be damned if I don't get there.
(Haha. That was kinda funny.)
And I'll be damned if Cynicism survives the journey, weak and pathetic as he is.