I was raised by my Baptist Christian grandparents and my open-minded, yet still God-loving gay mom. I was encouraged to research, question, and forge my own spiritual path. Yet here I am as an adult still trying to find that path.
Throughout my life, I have dabbled around with a multitude of spiritual beliefs, but always finding myself falling back into the comfort of Christianity. Save for one religion that always seems to call me back – Judaism. I will not get theological on the whys in this blog. The words would be too numerous to count. But I am a person who always wants to get as close to the truth as possible. I want to dig and uncover and then marvel at the new things I have learned. These nuggets of truth are like jewels.
The trouble is, there is a little bit of truth in everything.
Judaism. In my mind, the older something is, the closer to the original something is, the more truth it possesses. Delving into Jewish scholars’ arguments against Jesus, I have come up for air, panting. Any Christian who thinks Jews rejected Jesus over mere disappointment is hugely mistaken. So I started looking. I have spent the last month exhaustively listening to lectures, reading internet articles, and cross-referencing Greek and Hebrew words. So, so many words. Pouring over Scripture to find God. Where is He? I still don’t know.
And now I sit more confused than ever. Knowing what I do, I’m not sure I can pick a side at all. But I cannot stand to NOT have a side. I need to be rooted somewhere. Surely, God could not have left us down here with no definitive truth to be found….Could He?
Do not tell me to just have faith. Do not tell me to silence the scholar within me. Do not feed me a line about trusting. That kind of religion is nothing but smoke and mirrors to me. God IS real, and I still passionately believe in my being that He did not ask us to check our brains at the door. But oh, my greatest fear is that I will never settle into one walk, that I will always look down every cross street I encounter.
It all makes me want to throw up my hands and take a breather. Once in a while, I stop my maniacal search and whisper, “Are You still here?” and I hear a soft voice inside say, “I Am.”
“There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.” -Indigo Girls