It seems with each answer comes a new question. I'm making peace with my beliefs about God, Jesus, and traditional holiday but now I'm struggling with prayer.
I told my aunt that my doctor was concerned about my thyroid and she said she'd put me on the prayer list at church. Friends on Facebook post problems and difficulties in their lives and ask for prayer. My husband was recently waiting for word on a new job he really wanted (which he got, yay!) and a part of me wanted to pray. Or send it out to the universe. Manifest it. Whatever, the word isn't as important as the practice.
I'm not sure what I believe about the power of asking or visualizing. I'm not sure what I believe about God or the Universe intervening on our behalf. I think it's time for more books!!
What am I seeking?
The short answer is, my truth. Not the truth, MY truth.
Over the last several years I've been coming to terms with the questions and doubts I've had with the 'gospel truth' pounded into me by the fundamentalist church. I grew up an odd mix of Southern Baptist and Pentacostal- washed in the blood and afraid of fire and brimstone at the same time. I went to bible school and Sunday school and always felt like a good girl when I could tell my grandmother I'd gone to church during our weekly phone calls. I liked the people, like the fun activities and as a child the inconsistencies didn't bother me- probably because it just never occured to me to question the authority of church leaders. Also because I didn't fully comprehend them.
But now I do understand- I understand that what I believe in the deepest part of myself can't coexist with what I was taught I should believe. I realize now that when I was arranging my own transportation to church as a little girl it was about more than pleasing my grandmother. I have always been a seeker and now I'm broadening the search.
Over the last several years I've been coming to terms with the questions and doubts I've had with the 'gospel truth' pounded into me by the fundamentalist church. I grew up an odd mix of Southern Baptist and Pentacostal- washed in the blood and afraid of fire and brimstone at the same time. I went to bible school and Sunday school and always felt like a good girl when I could tell my grandmother I'd gone to church during our weekly phone calls. I liked the people, like the fun activities and as a child the inconsistencies didn't bother me- probably because it just never occured to me to question the authority of church leaders. Also because I didn't fully comprehend them.
But now I do understand- I understand that what I believe in the deepest part of myself can't coexist with what I was taught I should believe. I realize now that when I was arranging my own transportation to church as a little girl it was about more than pleasing my grandmother. I have always been a seeker and now I'm broadening the search.
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