If I had been able to really believe, none of this would have happened.

If I had ever been able to experience the God they spoke of in the way they spoke of Him, I probably would have been satisfied.

If I had heard the still small voice of the Divine without also hearing the still small voice of doubt saying it’s all in my head, I wouldn’t be sitting here surrounded by the broken pieces of everything I once believed about the Universe.

But it never felt all the way real.

How firm a foundation? My hope is built on nothing less.

How am I supposed to built a life on an ultimate foundation that feels not real?

How am I supposed to live with a still small voice that says “You are living in a delusion. It doesn’t feel real because it isn’t real.”?

Two decades I spent smashing the mute button on that internal alarm.

Doubt, I called it. Sin, I repented. Doubled my daily intake of brainwashing to suppress the sound of unsatisfied misgivings.

What am I supposed to do?

Pray against the darkness of deep mystery without certain answers.

Step into the light of what you know to be true.

Ignore the sensation in your chest telling you that you don’t actually know it to be true.

Try to forget that you are choosing a story which does not resonate with the experiences in your body.

Convince yourself that you don’t have to convince yourself.

Doubt your doubts.

Help my unbelief, say it again.

Most of all, don’t ask

why?