When I was young, I used to be full of the religious fervor that now is only the providence of the faithful and the retarded.
Now, I go days without thinking about God. And then, my every thought was of Him.
Did I not have enough responsibilities then? Can I not put my faith into anything these days? Do you get dragged behind the car of the world so many times that you can’t see the miracle that you are simply here anymore?
I try and find the special in every corner that will have me. Is it the words of a jubilant crowd singing along? Is it the taste of smoke and alcohol? Does it have to be in an old building with graying parishioners saying the same prayers again and again? Why can’t I find that feeling I once had about God?
Supposedly, when my grandfather died, I said that I had just given up on God. That I was angry with Him. I don’t know if I even said that. It’s been said that I have, though, and I have less reasons to hate God than most people.
They say that hell is the lack of God. So why do I put God through the lack of me?
Photo - N
Words - S
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