I’m reading a book my sister recommended and thinking there was a time I would never have read it.

A struggle between good and evil would’ve decidedly led to me deciding it was evil and putting it on the shelf, washing my hands of it.

The author can’t decide whether she believes God exists.

It wouldn’t be hatred of her or even judgment that would’ve have led to my banning of her book, of her.

It would be a tangible fear, a fear that the thoughts and questions of another might somehow taint my mind, lead me forever astray.

I might “be in trouble”.

You see, there are choices embedded in me, pounded into my head and heart by the angry preacher yelling at me, a chubby adolescent, an intimidated child who just wanted to belong.

To be safe and loved.

And learned to believe that according to God, to belong meant finding wrong in others, telling them about their sin and then never ever associating with such a person.

That’s why I still have this fear that a writer or just a person different than me, might somehow have the special powers to lure me, change me, make me unacceptable to God.

To be unlovable.

I think often of how this fear of being not faith filled enough, about being certain of being right and all the others wrong

Kinda caused me to make some unkind conclusions about others.

To utter unkind words.

Thinking their faith was false when I had no idea or evidence of such.

It was just a response that came from a mark left on a little girl.

Girl becoming a woman seeking perfection to avoid shame, girl becoming woman who waited to be condemned, never comforted.

Girl becoming a woman who always felt but only recently told God so…

“I feel like you’re punishing me, God.”

A woman with a tear soaked face who rose from the floor better for telling God so.

Sensing Him say, “I knew you felt that way, now you’re feeling better already because you weren’t afraid to tell me.”

And that feeling was very certain. God, you love me after all.

The author, Kelly Corrigan in her chapter of her book “Tell Me More” explores the simple response, “I don’t know.”

And it’s an honest choice she expresses.

A private one too.

I’m certain of God’s love. I have more reasons than that memoir idea I keep dancing around would have space for.

I do believe.

It’s a choice and on questioning days I ask God with raw honesty, the questions I used to believe I’d go straight to Hell for even having.

My faith is a winding path, has been mostly.

But, I’m beginning to notice with certainty that the path is becoming more simple, more solid, more sure.

And I’m certain that straightaway road has come in gradual honesty, brave questions and a settled stillness to open my heart and mind, no longer afraid to wonder.

Continue and believe.

Your life, every bit of it is your teacher, your listening and patient guide.

You are loved.