It sits on the edge. Whole. Complete. Okay. Balance, being an illusion more than a certainty, finally gives way. It falls. Yet in the moment before it hits, it finds knowledge. Knowledge that soon it will be broken. Incapable of being whole again. Shattered.

When I posted back in July about standing on the “Precipice of Change”, I had discussed the idea that various aspects of my life would soon be up for negotiation and change. The standards of my daily life, would give way to new habits and dealings. I would no longer call certain places “home”, I would no longer spend countless hours of my time pouring into trivial pursuits. In some ways, that has happened. Perhaps, though, not in ways I expected.

Because this is my blog, I feel it is a place where I can be honest and direct without fear of judgement. While some of what I post here may find themselves discussed in real-world conversation, I would ask that you respect my opinions and words as they are written. Should anything I write here bring offense, you have my apologies. Just know that it is not my intent to provide you with a sugar-coated piece of writing, nor would I expect this to be “shareable.” I just need to write to get it off of my chest.

Other than the occasional visit to another church, I have not been in regular attendance at a church since late-June of this year. This is not likely to change anytime soon. In fact, I am being quite intentional about it. For many, church is a great place to find connection and meaning. I respect what they try to do within the world. However, it is no longer for me. Not right now, anyway.

I am just a little too broken. A little too shattered. A little too unsure if God still exists. Yes, you read that right.

I cannot say it is entirely a new feeling, what had started as a seed of doubt and disbelief has only blossomed over time. It has become unmanageable and I can no longer hide it. God just no longer seems real. If I were being honest, I am not sure if he ever was. I just no longer know.

Go ahead and throw as many irrefutable facts and quotes at me as you deem necessary, but know that without an underlying belief, they are merely words. Sure, there is some value to those words, but not in any significant way. Telling me that God loves me is no different than implying that my own biological father loved me at some point, empty words unless proven otherwise. And broad statements such as “Well, you are here. That’s proof enough!” will only proceed to warrant a shoulder shrug and a sigh. I know, people have already tried. The fact I have life is merely evidence that on the day I was conceived, I was just the fastest of the day’s swimmers. Go me.

To those who may share a belief that I failed to give it my best effort, please allow me to put your minds at ease: I did. I showed up. I tried to get involved as much as I could. I read. I prayed. I sang the songs. I joined a small group. I did everything that they say to do, and for a while I was convinced that it meant something. But those days are a little behind me too. I tried and it just didn’t stick. I’m sorry.

Life has been a little too cruel for me to see God through it anymore. I have experienced a little too much pain. A little too much uncertainty, despair, and fear. I think I could have used a little more peace, but that just has not been in the cards up until now.

But maybe things can change. Maybe God can make himself real and from the ashes my faith can rise. But I don’t see how. I don’t have the desire to waste another moment searching for a way. I gave it 17 years. I tried.

So life will move on. Another broken soul in a world full of them. I suppose there’s a measure of comfort in that. Even as I approach the point of shattering, I know there are others falling too.

The precipice of change hasn’t been easy. But perhaps, necessary items never are.

Until next time,


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