So, when I reasoned that I believe in Jesus, I knew there was a pretty much 100% chance I’d come back around to thinking… wait, what’s the truth again? That’s what happened tonight.
There’s that part of me again asking: What if we’re just living in a crazy matrix computer thing, whether Jesus existed on this plane or not? What if I’m only believing what I want to believe? Even the things I didn’t question when I started this venture over 2 years ago- like the fact that our creator would be loving- what if that’s another thing that I only want to believe?
What if none of our actions matter?
Is reincarnation true or false?
Are ghosts spirits of the dead, or are they demons in disguise?
Well fuck, maybe I’m not as close to the truth as I thought I was.
Why did I claim I believe? Was it a feeling that simply came to me in desperation for comfort and belonging in the thick of my great struggle? The timing was uncanny. Something fucking terrible happened, and suddenly I believed in Jesus. Was I just clinging to the hope that was offered by friends, or am I truly convicted?
I guess I’m not really there yet. For once, I wanted to be, and I wonder if I only fooled myself into thinking I really believed it. Some might think Satan is whispering in my ear, making me think these things, but even if he is, I’m glad to be exploring all sides of the story. Blind faith is something I’ve never wanted. Faith is great but it always has a backbone of sorts.
I have shared my revelation of Jesus with very few people, and I feel like that is wrong if I truly believe. I must have doubts since I have not wanted to share it with my family or non-church friends. I DO fear they will think I’m brainwashed. More than that, I’m not feeling truly convicted right now, so why claim something so serious just to turn on it later? I’m taking my time.
I feel like I took that leap of faith to see what would happen. Believed by choice rather than true feelings of conviction. I need to be open about this.
Everything is so questionable though anyway. When I pray over specific things or just focus on things that matter to me, I face the futility of it all as well. Why pray over these dumb little things when God is supposedly so big? There are billions of other people living their lives at the same time as I. All the small things… like driving past the place I was just fired from, which causes me pain, or hearing a happy, familiar song, which lifts my mood, both remind me of the fact that they are such TINY blips in the whole of existence, and don’t really matter. They get me pondering again: What really matters?
It is automatic for me to comfort others when they are sad. It feels natural to me. Chemicals inducing empathy flow through my nerves when such a time strikes. It’s an average emotion. Most people feel it at the appropriate times. But there are people who DON’T. There are people who have their nerves twisted differently, and to them, the desire to KILL comes NATURALLY, just as naturally as when I want to save someone from self-destruction. How do we differentiate between reality and what’s only in our minds? Reality for killers, to them, feels as real as mine does to me. Makes me question what’s really true. Majority, empathic people, rules? Well, it used to be that the majority of white people didn’t want black people to be treated equally. And don’t we believe now that’s a horrid idea?
What’s the truth? Is it what we want it to be? Jacob once quoted someone as saying, “Reality is what doesn’t change when you stop believing in it.” As in, reality stands no matter what our perception is. But our perception ALSO has the power to CHANGE reality. So it all goes hand-in-hand I think. Either way, this is the kind of pondering that makes me want to sit or lie down silently for days until I reach the truth, kinda like Buddha did. The restlessness I feel is something that hits me from time to time. It used to hit me a lot more, but the past 6 months have been so smooth and easy that it was easy to simply look forward to the future. Now that I’ve experienced something dreadful all of a sudden, I’ve reverted back to some old ways.
I don’t want to cling to false hope.
I just want the truth.
And I don’t know how I’ll feel tomorrow.
Something I always believed, and still do, is that if God were real, he’d prefer I’m real with him than conform to anything.
I’m just tired of the fear that the universe is fake and that what I do doesn’t matter.
I want to believe differently, but I don’t know the truth.
I’m back at a square one of sorts. But even deeper than that. I was ignorant before- touting my beliefs as truth. Studying Christianity has opened my eyes. Not only to what they believe, but also, what I ever believed to be true about God. Things I’m scared to question.
But I’m willing to do it.