in search of
looking for answers about god
I’ve heard from well meaning people that it was god’s decision to have my marriage end. They didn’t say that directly but they said things like “god works in mysterious ways” or “god only gives you the burdens you can handle” and that to me is putting the onus on god, instead of on me or my ex or circumstances. God did not end my marriage and god did not confer with me about being able to handle the breakup because I did not handle it admirably. Every time someone throws god at me, I bristle. I am not a religious person. And I’m not even sure if I even believe in god.
I was raised Catholic, and did the whole bit from being christened to communion to confirmation to being married in a church. I attended religious ed classes on Saturday morning for many years, and went to church every week. I remember always questioning things, always demanding to know why we were asked to believe stories that seemed to come out of fantasy books. I took some of the lessons to heart - feed the poor, help the sick, be nice to each other - but I just couldn’t put my whole heart into believing that god exists or that he created humanity and the planet on which we reside.
I don’t know that I’d call myself an atheist because I am not secure in my belief that god does not exist. Most of that insecurity comes from the way I was taught about god: he’s watching everything I am doing, he will exact revenge upon me for behaving badly, he is vengeful and unforgiving. I was not raised with a benevolent god, but one who would punish me for wrongdoings (“god is punishing you” was a common mantra). I prayed every night for the souls of my dead ancestors, for the health of my loved ones, for good things to happen to me, but I was always left feeling like there was no one really there. It seemed unbelievable to me that there was a being who listened to the prayers of the faithful every day. It was even more unbelievable that he answered those prayers.
The thing is, I wanted to believe. I wanted there to be a god. But I wanted god on my terms. I wanted him to be kind and gentle and forgiving. I looked at things like war and starving children and wondered why god didn’t stop these things from happening. If I was supposed to believe in the power of prayer, if I was supposed to believe that god was interventionist when it came to punishing me, why wouldn’t he intervene when people were suffering? No one had a good answer for this. I was told not to question god or his mysterious ways.
My parents sent me to a Catholic high school. I think it was for the purpose of getting me away from the “bad” kids I hung out with and not for religious reasons, and I went kicking and screaming. The school and its religion classes did nothing to make me want to embrace god, and I basically left the church in tenth grade. I stopped attending masses, I stopped going to confession, I stopped believing that god was kind or benevolent or real.
I dabbled in the church again after my first divorce, when I was looking for something to fill the void, to enrich my soul. I threw myself into it, attending church almost daily, looking for something to spark the faith that I so dearly wanted to have. After a few months I left the church once again, feeling unfulfilled. I know it wasn’t god’s place to fulfill me spiritually, I had to do that myself. But it never happened.
I no longer know what I believe or don’t believe. I feel called sometimes to go back to church to find a sense of community. I feel called to pray, to talk to god the way I did when I was ten. But there is so much of me that questions all of it. How could a just and kind god let children suffer? How could a benevolent god let evil people live and commit atrocities? When people say “god spared me” after a tragedy, I automatically question why he would spare one person but not another. People tell me god is not an interventionist god, that we exist on free will, but in the same breath will tell me to pray to him to end someone’s suffering.
I envy the faith of believers. I want to have that surety. I want to believe in something bigger than myself. I just don’t know what that something is. I can’t call myself an atheist because I want to leave it open that there is something better beyond here. If it’s not god, what is it? And if it is god, is he good or is he indifferent?
I have been searching for answers most of my adult life and I am no closer to finding any. I want the comfort that believers have. When I was going through some rough stuff in my life, a cousin told me “god will take care of everything.” He didn’t. But I did. And maybe believing in myself should be enough.