For a few weeks, I’ve been debating on whether I should do this post or not. Something told me to go right on and so I listened. So, y’all, I’d love to hear your responses! Just tell me what’s on your mind right here. (:
When I was a kid, church was more about spending some time with my maternal grandparents than anything. I restlessly sat in the pew with them until Sunday School started, bugging my Mema until she gave me a piece of peppermint to keep me quiet. I enjoyed Sunday school though. We played games, won prizes, learned (yes, I was a nerd, sue me). Revival at Mt. Tilla Baptist Church, with my late Grandma Della, was full of loud, soulful, joyous singing. There was praise and worship.
But I didn’t really know anything. I only knew what I felt: joy, love, and peace.
Aside from those feelings, and the memories, only a fraction of what I’d been taught was internalized. I knew some of the stories in the Bible, thanks to Mema’s after-church recaps and children’s books. In times of great fear, I recited the Lord’s Prayer to calm myself. Other than that, I didn’t think much about religion, faith, or any of that stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I always thought of myself as a spiritual person when it came down to it. But it wasn’t part of who I was until high school.
Family and personal issues left me in a dark place where I started to question everything. But I wasn’t the only one. People I knew would always ask, “Why is it always the good people who get punished?” I saw that they doubted their faith, just like I doubted mine. It wasn’t that I believed only good people got punished; it was that I struggled to see some greater design.
It was then I decided to research every question I always wanted to ask, but was told not to. Questions I never thought to ask were being answered. That’s when I started to meditate; the Internet doesn’t exactly make the spiritual journey easier. This led to an almost-five-year journey.
I re-evaluated the things I’d been taught, the new things I’d learned on my own, and what made the most sense to me. It was a process of trials, errors, and more trials. However, at the end of it, I found my own type of faith – one that took what I knew as a child, and what I’d learned since, and smooshed them together. My experiences, my journey, resulted in a stronger faith in something bigger than myself.
While there are many people who never doubt their faith, there are still just as many who do. If you happen to be in that boat, take a breather. Ask yourself why it is you believe what you do. If there’s something that leaves you doubting, it can mean two things: you haven’t yet understood it, or it doesn’t resonate with your existence like it should.
People are unique, multi-faceted beings who think and operate in different ways. What speaks to one person – what moves them to sing, praise, and worship – may not exactly be the same for another. I learned a reverence for all life, the earth, and renewed my faith in the teachings of my childhood. Honor these differences in yourself and others, and never be afraid to follow your faith.