I don’t know when exactly I stopped believing in “God.” I do know that as a child when I attended catholic school, I definitely believed in “God,” “Jesus,” the “Holy Spirit,” “Angels,” and “Demons.” Well, I was a kid. I was trusting. I believed everything my mother told me. And she told me that there was a “God” who lived in “Heaven.” At school, I attended Mass every school morning before classes started. I also attended Sunday’s services regularly. I loved the darkness softened by candlelight inside the church, which looked timeless and full of mystery. The alter. The solemn rituals. The sensor of sweet, sticky incense. It was a wonderful time. I believed “God” existed because people all around me believed it to. Plus, I had no reason to doubt because I trusted my mother completely. “God” simply was a “fact of life” for me. As a child, I played “Church” under the dining room table with my sisters. I almost always played the priest.
But after I completed third grade, my parents divorced, and mother couldn’t afford to send me there anymore. So I went to public school. Not nearly as interesting by a long shot.
My father’s father was a minister at a church he ran in the Old West End of Toledo, Ohio. My grandfather’s father was a preacher, too. As was HIS father! The Thomas’ had a long line of preaches. My mother began taking us kids to Granpa’s church, after we bailed out the ritzy catholic school.
I liked my granpa’s church. It was modern, and really decked out. So more “God” fed to me for what seemed to be forever! Because after mother got into a fight with my father’s parents, she took us kids from one church to another. And each church that you wanted to join, you HAD to be baptized. So I was baptized 5 different times in 5 different churches.
I began wondering why “God” couldn’t keep track of us better. And what did all these miserable, black people in front of me have to do with this Jesus?
I doubted, but I still “believed.”
I still believed in “God” when I left high school. I thought about becoming a minister, myself! But a tragic thing happened. I read lots of books. Too many for me to just fling myself into the robe of a Minister of God!
Then in college, I had a visit from the White Light. White Light everywhere! And it seemed to stem from a thought I had earlier that night: that if “God” didn’t show me “He” existed, I would have stopped believing in him! Only thing is, “God’ could not really, truly exist in such a world with such a lame story. So I became a lightweenie for many years. I still believed, but the image changed. “God” was now the “Source of Being.”
This was fine until I noticed these channels began repeating and recycling their material. And the world continued to spin in agony, as nothing changed. I became bitter. Fuck these messages.
Belief in “God” changed nothing. Just as “God” changed nothing. LoL.
BeLIEf in “God” is one and equal to the idea of “God.” Neither exists.
I forgive myself for allowing myself that believed “God” existed.
I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to participate in that idea.
I forgive myself for allowing myself to believe in the Holy Spirit.
I forgive myself for allowing myself to harbor beliefs about the Holy Spirit.
I forgive myself for allowing myself to believe that I was born of Original Sin.
I forgive myself for allowing myself to participate in this belief.