Faith

Faith is a tricky thing. Self-righteous people say that it’s easy, that the ability to let go of all reservations and inhibitions proves that one’s faith is real. I tend to think they’re full of it.

I’ve been struggling with my faith for a while now. Not the idea of whether there is a God so much, although I did have a pretty bad night a few weeks ago. It’s more of what my faith is, exactly. What do I believe about God and Christianity/spirituality in general?

Faith is a journey, I recognize that, but I hate the journey process. I’m a destination girl. Let’s just get there, for crying out loud. Take the plane instead of the car; the journey itself is tedious to me, wasted time. Let’s get from Point A to Point B as quickly as possible. I want to get there so I can get the work done, enjoy the destination or the goal, stop waiting for something to happen.

Unfortunately, faith doesn’t work that way, so a journey it must be, and a long one it is, too. Thirteen hours flying in coach with one’s knees in their chest is nothing compared to the journey of faith. (I’ve done that, by the way, stuck in a middle seat. Ugh.)

I was raised a certain way in religion, see my blog for that whole debacle, and I’ve been trying to untwist the man-made prejudices ever since. Long story short, I know that a lot of I was taught to believe is wrong. A lot…