Back When God Mattered

I remember when God mattered to me. I would close my eyes in prayer every night and sing in church. I would strive to bring myself as close to God as I possibly could because I knew he would reward me. I knew not to do immoral things because I would be punished forever in Hell if I did, and rewarded with eternal paradise if I did not. Christianity was the only thing I ever knew, and I never questioned any of it.

When I was bullied in elementary school, I fought hard to resist my urges to use violence to fend them off. I was pretty large for my age, which was part of the reason I got picked on, but I was big enough to easily beat them up. But I didn’t, I never lifted a finger on them, no matter how upset they made me. Why? Because the Bible said no, and I knew that I would be rewarded for my patience. I found comfort in my beliefs, the belief that I would see all my dead relatives again one day, and that I would be able to spend an eternity with the people I love, no worries, no responsibilities, no sickness, no heartache… It almost sounds too good to be true…

There are a multitude of reasons why I broke away from my Christian beliefs, all of which are not important at the moment. I was raised up on the implication that only Christians could be good people, I am clear proof against that. In fact, since I gave up religion, my morals have actually improved. I used to be homophobic based on what the bible said, and the fact that I no longer believe in an afterlife makes me treasure both other peoples’ lives and my own even more. And I realized that I need to make the most of my life since this is my only one.

I’m not sure where I’d be if I wasn’t raised up as a Christian, or if I still was one, but regardless of how it may have affected me before, and no matter how much I may regret the things I’ve done or said in the name of religion, I am at peace with myself and wouldn’t change a thing about my life.