I believe in God, but I’m not too clear on the other details.
Every Sunday morning, or alternative, Saturday night, we had to go to church.
Every meal/bedtime we prayed.
Until I was about 14 and then it stopped. No idea why, I think my dad just gave up. His mum died in a train crash when he was 14, it was just after the war and the church was looking for volunteers to pick up elderly people from wherever they had been sent during the war. My gran volunteered and lost her life in this freak accident. My dad told me that my granddad stopped going to church from that day forward and I find it incredible that my dad still believes in God.
I want to believe, I just find it difficult with everything going on in the world to think that there is a greater meaning, that someone, somewhere up there justifies all this suffering and then has the nerve to say that those who die are in a better place now, called upon by God. Try and explain this to a mother who has lost her child.
Don´t get me wrong, my children are being brought up as Catholics but we seldom go to church. If I want to pray, I can do so at home, or at a wee chapel nearby, I don´t have to sit in a huge, freezing cold church and listen to a minister ranting on about God and the wrath brought upon those who disbelieve.
Have you ever tried to explain parts of the bible to a child? – Impossible – I just can´t, or maybe they have inherited my way of questioning the meaning of the words, who knows, but if I hear one more – but why mum – I´ll scream.
To be fair, I envy those who have a strong believe in God, it must be comforting to have something/someone to believe in. And maybe one day, someone will come and lead me the way to believe, until then, I stick to this:
When I do good, I feel good; when I do bad, I feel bad. That’s my religion.Advertisements