Or my search for God.

Well here comes a long post.

No sense in beating around the bush. I plan on writing a blog and I plan on writing it about God. Or more correctly, my search for God. I'm probably not going to keep this PC. (Pretty sure when you bring up God or politics, that flies out the window anyway).

I feel like some background is needed.

For the majority of my life, I have never had religion. I have been, what I consider, to be an average, casual observer of various belief systems but never invested too much time or consideration in to any of them. I like to think I'm fairly spiritual but not religious.

That all changed a few weeks ago.

First, you should know I have a rabid appetite for learning. About anything. A topic/subject catches even my passing attention and I research it obsessively (Love you Google! ) until I tire myself out. Usually takes a two days of nonstop reading. I horde random information like some people do Beanie Babies - fun to obtain, rather useless afterwards.

So one night, I got it in my head that I wanted to see what people more intelligent than I thought about the existence of God.

Mistake. Oh mistake.

Asking the scientific community about God was not unlike offering up your most tender bits to a sand blaster. They found little nuggets of hope and belief I didn't even know I had and destroyed them.

What's worse, they did it with facts and research and incredibly complex studies of the human mind that I can't remember well enough to quote - likely because each sentence was robbing me of vital things - but by the end of that night, only one word could sum up how I felt.

Devastated.

Now, I can't stress this enough, I have never been religious. 

I studied biology in college, I'm a big believer in scientific method and 85% of the things I just take as a given are directly challenged by most religions. In all reality, it should have followed that there was no place for God there and you'd think I wouldn't have been shocked to be so thoroughly chastised with their numbers and charts and studies.

I was equal parts amazed and horrified that I had such a profound inner belief system, unknown to myself, that I could be heartbroken when it was shattered.

And that's what I was. Utterly and completely heartbroken.

I spiraled in to depression. Me, the never ever get down for more than a day, happy upbeat, me!

 I was so depressed, it felt hard to breathe. I actually researched postpartum depression - my daughter was four months at the time - because there was no way not believing in God anymore could make me feel like this. Like a limb had been chopped off. 

But it did.

There was no God. Science had proven that beyond a doubt. No souls, no afterlife, no higher power.

I think these were some of my darker days. I struggled and pretended I was fine. Because, if there was no God, no higher power, what really was the point? No one could fix that. No pill make it better, nothing to talk through. Everything was felt pointless.

I desperately begin talking to my more religious/spiritual friends and family. I asked for prayers, direction, advice. I had this gaping wound where a beautiful thing once was and I probably couldn't fix it. How could I ever learn to live with it? Why did they believe? Had they not researched? Did they not know about all those charts and facts or did they dismiss them? 

I wish I could have. They loomed very large in my mind, shooting down any defense I tried to build to get that glimmer of hope back.

Very dark times. 

I did almost ask some of my openly atheist friends how they dealt with the soul shattering truth of not believing in a God/afterlife but couldn't bring myself to. What if, deep down, they too had a secret belief? Maybe one they never shared but a hope for a bright light and happy ending? Maybe they were completely open to finding God and were simply waiting to hear the right argument  see the right miracle  

What if by me asking for coping skills, they came to the same terrible gut retching realizations I had?

Cause honestly, I felt that in the absolute absence of faith, I had created a vacuum in myself of despair. 

At the behest of my sister, I prayed - me, who have made a thousand mocking comments about prayer, now gave it my heartfelt all.

I don't remember exactly what I prayed about, only that I gave it my all.

And... and I'm probably going to lose some people here but regardless.

That hope? That part of me that was more real than my limbs? That unnameable thing I had never been aware of till it was ripped from me?

It came back.

It felt like someone had turned on the warm water and it slowly filled up that terrible black hole.

I didn't have answers, there was no 'ah ha!' moment of God showing me the divine way or some arguement that popped in to my head that erased all the charts and facts I had read.

It was more like, I had been shut out of Home and suddenly, I was let back in. 

That simple. That profound. 

As quickly as it had struck me down, the depression, the dark hopelessness, was gone. I was ok again. Not fake it till you make it ok. Deep down, could inhale a deep breath again, life is wonderful, ok again.

It was a startling thing.

I drug my sister to Mass with me that week. A gorgeous place called Immaculate Heart of Mary.

I don't know why I picked that church, I'm much  closer to Christian in terms of raising and background. And I had no idea what they were talking about and I felt terribly out of place and I'm sure all the elderly people that wake up to go to Mass at 8:30 on a Friday were wondering about the two 'youngins' hanging out in the back and I had to take all my cues from my sister but...

But I was there.

I was there God.

I took my sister to the front desk after and we filled out the paperwork to start classes - I have no idea what the correct term is - but classes to become Catholic? Take Mass? Ok so I'm still not sure and they asked some questions I'm felt awkward answering and I'm feeling a healthy bit of trepidation about cause I know I've committed at least one grave sin (divorcee, ouch!)

But still. I'm trying and I guess I have to believe even with that red mark against me, there's forgiveness out there. So if I have to spend the next week till class dreading what they are going to say - I'm fairly sure they aren't going to turn me away? Right? Anyone?

...

So yeah, I'm probably going to call them at some point cause now that I've written that out I'm more worried about it than I thought. Is getting a divorce a 'say fifty hail mary's' kind of thing? Did it matter we didn't get married in a church, by a priest or even in the presence of God? Aside from the state approval, could we just call it 'living in sin'? Is there degrees here?!

This post was much longer than I intended so I'll leave it there. I'll update after I talk to someone about that above mentioned grave sin.

Thanks for reading.