I prayed as I walked into church today. I prayed and I felt a measure of calm wash over me - something that almost always happen whenever I'm there. There were no visions, no angels singing, none of that dramatic spiritual epiphanies. Just a feeling of peace. Something tight and hard in myself dissolved away and I took it as a good sign that I'm not completely condemned.
That maybe I might have a chance against the long road ahead.
But a part of me was skeptical. God doesn't always save someone. Often just helps you live through the loss (although you really don't feel like that when you're grieving).
I guess I don't entirely trust God. I never doubt Him or His existence, but his motives are just too beyond me. Through a thick dark glass.
And for once, at least in regards to that incident, I'd like to see through the damn glass clearly.
But despite all my doubts and annoyance, I really do miss going to church.
I just felt much too tainted to be there for a time.
Maybe I'm feeling less tainted. Maybe?
Or maybe I've just cracked and I'm back to hoping and praying.