A Higher Power: Part One.

I was raised in the confusion of a tumultuous christian home. Some days were good, i'd read a book and play outside, mom would make dinner. Other days were filled by fits of rage radiating from either parent. There was never a day where I didn't feel safe in my childhood home, but there were most definitely times where I prayed to be somewhere else. I didn't know why God would let my dad ignore us or why he would let him strike my mom. I didn't know why he would let my mom strike us or why she had to work so late. I didn't understand why  no matter how hard I cried, and promised God that I would never ask for anything ever again, nothing changed... until they divorced. According to the Bible though, that's not the hand of God. That was just my parents falling apart... even if it were for the better.
That's when I disconnected from my family's religion. I couldn't believe in a God that I couldn't see, hear or feel and I had no deeper understanding of the intelligence of the world, so I had no reason to find a conclusion. I spent seven years going to church, singing praise and worship, feeling nothing. I listened to my mom read me scriptures that represented nothing to me other than guidelines. I heard countless pastors live and on tape, preach to their fullest potential, begging me to hear them, to hear God... but I never did.

I told my mom a couple weeks ago that I don't know if I believe in God. I told her I've been faking my way through religion just to make her happy. She broke down into tears and said, "Do you understand how much it hurts to know that God is real and my daughter doesn't accept it? Do you know how much it hurts to know my daughter is going to hell?"

Comments like that are what make it hard for me to believe. How can you tell your own daughter she's going to burn in hell? She put her faith over the comfort of my mind... and it's been running rampant ever since.