Questioning

Sometimes it seems like the days just pass by, and I am not there for them. Sometimes I am lucky and you are here with me, making the days run together in a blur of love and fun and "wasted" time. Right now it is too quiet. The cats are asleep, and the only sounds are of the kitchen clock, the laptop fan, and my clicking keys. If I stop typing, time itself might stop. I am struggling to think of what to write about, so things might get mundane for a few minutes.

Tomorrow I will lead a growth group for the first time at the place of deep thinking. I was excited up until the last couple of days about it... It's the same feeling I get the nights before a new crop of students I am supposed to teach come to my classroom. I don't know many of the people in my group, so my little introverted self is going to have to step up my game and not show the social anxiety that will be boiling inside.

I like talking about our world and about faith. It is eye-opening to hear others speak about their experiences and to learn from them. It is eye-opening to hear others say things I disagree with and then to find common ground on another topic. Agreeing or disagreeing with others helps us decide what we believe. I am not good at being told what to believe and just "going with it" because someone said so. I was great at that once upon a time, but as I get older, things have gradually turned from opaque to translucent. I feel like the last year and a half has been such a huge transformation for me.

When I was young, I believed wholeheartedly in God and my family went to church. I read the children's Bible stories my grandma gave me. I still remember the mustard yellow hardcover with red text on the front. I remember the way the pages smelled. I also remember the children's Bible my mom had at home. It was large with a brown and tan melded hardcover and had really interesting pictures. I remember reading a story from the yellow storybook at night, clasping my hands under my chin, and praying. I remember Sunday school and not understanding much of anything we were "taught". It was like stepping into fourth grade without having attended K-3. As things worsened on the home front with my parents, I remember my sister crying. I would try to comfort her. I remember praying more, hoping it would help. But it didn't stop the violence. It was then that I seriously started to question religion and God.

When my parents divorced, I was 12 years old and in the seventh grade. I had a variety of friends in middle school, and my mom encouraged me to go to church with lots of my friends to try different things out. I remember getting saved and not wanting to tell my mom because I thought she might get mad at me. I attended churches of pretty much every denomination possible, but nothing felt right. Nothing clicked. I decided the best definition was the term "agnostic" where I believed something existed but didn't quite know what. I walked away from my search until just a couple of years ago when I felt a magnetic pull toward filling an empty space in my soul. I am making so much progress and am really examining what I believe. It is hard sometimes, but I am finding fulfillment in Unitarian Universalism. Some people question the validity of UU churches, but I disagree. A place where everyone is accepted and can ask questions/seek to understand sounds like paradise to me.