den of iniquity

i was raised force fed on evangelism and by the time i was sixteen i was done. i've seen the extremes: folks casting out demons, writhing on the floor, sermons that went on for days and folks raising the roof. i've had my fill of good old fashioned bible thumping and i know all the hymns by heart. it wasn't a good thing for me, growing up terrified of evil and way more wrongs than rights. i've committed mayhem in every youth group i belonged to and heard i'm praying for you in the worst way you can hear it said. even so i was a pretty good kid convinced i was awful, on the escalator to hell.

as i grew up and sprouted my own head i learned not all of that was right or even okay. i spent many years wandering religion, studying different ones trying to find truth. i've talked to shaman and priests, gurus and saints. and in the end i've eschewed religion as ordered by man almost out of defiant laziness if nothing else. i can't wear the cloak no matter how many alterations i make. i can't make sense of limits, of retribution, or of ideas that make some people more and others not.

but i also deeply admire those who've got their faith nestled tight, those who believe without a doubt. i know it's not a simple thing, faith, but some people make it seem easy. and while i don't long for it i might almost covet it, the finishing of the search, the final frontier. but it's not in my heart, not now and who knows if it ever was. there were times in my youth i thought i knew and then everything got brighter and more confusing still. i'm not sorry but it's still there, so intentionally injected under my skin it became no different than mothers milk.

there isn't an end to this post or some newfound revelation. i'm not coming to conclusions or changing my mind. but it's one of the things that rolls around in my head when i wonder what to teach M, what i base my own spirituality on. and it's not yet finished but i don't know where it's going, either.