I think sooner or later, you have to deal with the fact that God doesn't always have your back.

When my father was dying of the kidney disease that rampages in our family, I begged and pleaded with God to heal my beloved Dad - and spare me having to live the rest of my youth with my horrible mother.

I promised God that I would get straight A grades on my upcoming report cards (except for math, which was impossible for me) if he let Dad live.

I kept up my end of the deal. God didn't.

I am totally indifferent towards religion now, and I'm sorry about that, because the sense of community was a very nice thing.

There is a character in Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov named Alyosha who fervently and constantly believes in God and wants to serve him. In that devotion he joins a monastery, where through prayer and faith he comes to expect a certain very modest miracle. When it does not occur--when the embarrassing opposite occurs--Alyosha turns away from his religion. He did not lose faith in God, just respect for him.

A similar thing happens in C.S. Lewis's A Grief Observed. Dealing with his beloved wife's death, the author writes in frustration and pain that he continues to believe in God but he never believed that God could be like THAT.

Which is my way of saying that yes, the question of God's reliability was a big one for me. The extent of meaningless suffering in this world makes me feel that either God does not exist or he is not worthy of worship. Like Alyosha, I turned and walked away.

I once thought I had a deal with god: if I paid a full tithe, he'd have my back in the career world. For a while, it seemed to work very well indeed - a couple of times, an excellent job opening seemed to "miraculously" open up for me with no effort on my part. And I kept up my end, 10% of gross, rounded up to the nearest $5, plus an extra $50/month in fast offerings. (I didn't want god to be able to claim that I'd shorted him.) It wasn't a real sacrifice, as I was easily making enough not to miss it; further, I deducted it and got a healthy tax refund each year.

So yeah, I was content with paying up indefinitely as long as neither of us blinked first. But eventually, one of us did blink, and it wasn't me. Back then, I did believe in god, and in my mind he had clearly failed to hold up his end of the bargain. Now I don't believe at all. But if he/it does turn out to be "real" in some fashion, he's the one that has to ask for my forgiveness - for that, and a lot of other things as well. I bet I'm not alone in that regard; on the remote chance that god is real, he owes us all.

I have been keeping a scratch document during my research and occasionally I'll be struck by a feeling and go in there to wax philosophical on what I believe, trying to dig deep on where I am. This is stuff from that doc.

"You just left because you wanted to sin!

What sins would be worth giving up eternal life for? Coffee? Are you serious?

Abraham and Isaac. I can't do it. Even if it were me, God telling me to sacrifice my own son, the little boy that I had prayed so hard to have, that I loved so much...I couldn't do it. I know God gave him to me and He could take the boy anytime. I know I'd see the boy again in the afterlife.
But what if God hadn't stopped him? What if Abraham had sacrificed Isaac? He'd have to live with that. His son would be dead at his own hands, and the God that he worshipped with his whole might, mind, and strength, was the one that demanded this from him. Maybe I'm a bigger apostate than I realized. Maybe I'm just that selfish and ego driven. But a God that would demand that I fully commit in my heart to destroying the things I love for His glory is not a God I can follow. Who's here for who? I mean truly. Is worship for my benefit or His? I mean, with or without my devotion and faith, He's going to be a tyrant over me, raking me over heated coals, taking things away randomly, blessing me with good fortune without telling me why, etc. I might as well be standing up. He needs me to want to kneel and it is suspect to demand my covenant without also demanding my understanding.

I Am.

I think, therefore I am.

I don't feel uplifted or edified by a belief in a God. The Biblical God seems so simple and restrained to me. Like by defining our terms, we've severely limited who God is and what He is to me. A Father. A Creator. A goal to be reached. A jealous predator to be appeased. An egotistical judgement to be condemned upon me. I just keep reaching the edge and feeling disappointed. Yet Gnosticism feels like a waste of time. A God so limitless so as to be unknowable is one that I cannot approach or touch. So what does worship earn me? What does prayer to a being so vast and incomprehensible really do for me?

I'd rather not be bothered at all. I agree with certain frameworks of ethics given by Christianity but not all of them. I don't agree with punishment or deviant hedonism. I think I can be a good person without grinding myself down with guilt and shame. I think I can have freedom without embracing nihilistic secularism as if it were a new breed of Master. I can be medium and get what I want out of life.

I love the written word. I love colors. I love creatures with eyes and faces to empathize with. I love cheese and pasta and mushrooms. I think that is enough to define me.

In Mormon culture and in broader Christian culture, God gives you trials and tribulations to help you grow in your faith in Him. We are meant to endure in our suffering here, in meekness and the subversion of the self for a being who demands it of us, because He enjoys our piety just as much as he enjoys blessing us with happiness. I am tired of wondering every time I step in a hole or stub my toe, if I am being punished for something, especially when I have been breaking my back to do good and be good. I am tired of thinking that mere complaint or sadness or frustration over my situation will somehow earn me ten more Universe lashings because I didn't exemplify perfect faith and gratitude. I am tired of attributing every good thing that happens to me to some act of love and warmth from a deity that can't be bothered to truly connect with me. I have to search for love, I have to justify love in random coincidences, good fortune as providence, or things I earned through hard work I must hand over glory to someone else. Or else. God help me, literally, if I don't act grateful enough.

What would really change if I removed God entirely? There's no one to fearfully thank. No one to blame. Unless it's truly my fault, and then I can utilize the information for the future and overcome my own flaws. But if it isn't, then there's no one in charge that needs to be coddled and appeased. There's just me and random chance.

The funniest thing about deism, in particular Biblical deism, is the goal of making us choose to follow God and choose the right. Agency is number one. Yet believing in God takes away all of my agency because I immediately give everything over to an invisible deity. I give them credit for everything bad, everything good about me or that happens to me. I have limited choices on what I am allowed to do and it's a very general list given to everybody, so, it's not as if it takes me as an individual child of God into account. I am here to make choices and to be punished and guilted for those choices and God can't be bothered to tell me exactly what he wants with me directly. "Read the manual". "You MUST leave a message on the machine. I'll never call you back." "Follow my Son's example but I'll leave it up to interpretation."

I'm so tired. "

Beautifully written.

There's just me and random chance.

Indeed.

God was reliably not there.

Moments after I learned my daughter had died, I asked God for a bit of comfort.

Nothing.

In the early 2000s, my family had gone through what I call our Job period. It was bad. It was one challenge after another, with no chance to even come up for air between stressful events.

Even our happy times were filled with anxious worry, such as my sister giving birth twice within a few years, and both times we nearly lost both my sister and the baby.

One day I was praying. You know that part in the Book of Mormon where they had their burdens lightened? They had the same amount of labour, but they stopped feeling it as heavily. I was asking why I kept praying for that, as I was an obedient girl. I was even working for the Church for crying out loud, which was a challenge in itself.

I went for a walk and prayed as I went along. I was in the middle of asking "Heavenly Father" why we weren't even given a chance to breathe, when I literally stopped in my tracks and asked, "Are you even there?" Nothing. "Hellooooooo!!!!????" I was met with deafening silence. I felt nothing.

That's the first moment that I thought to myself, "Oh, my gosh. What if He's not even there? What if I'm just talking to myself and there's no one there to even listen to me?"

It was a frightening thought. But it may well have been the beginning of the end for me and my fragile little faith.

I didn't lose faith because he was unreliable. I didn't think my lily white, suburban cares and woes were worth his time. Seriously. I looked around at the problems in the world and thought that no matter what was happening in my life, and trust me, it was no picnic, if there was a god, he'd have bigger fish to fry. I never thought praying was of any use.

When people would say, "prayer isn't for asking for god's help, it's for your own comfort" it would only confirm my ideas that it was a waste of time and effort.

It was a contributing factor

My son lost faith by the time he was 10. He said God never helped him. Ever.

When you have been taught from very young that "sometimes the answer to your prayer is no," (dead silence, nada, zilch) then you have no expectations of your prayers being answered and you are set up to never be disappointed in God but only in yourself as you sink further and further into unworthiness.

Interestingly we judge God by what he does for us, and, those suffering the horrors of the world? Be damned

> Interestingly we judge God by what he does for us,
> and, those suffering the horrors of the world? Be
> damned

Very true. The way many religions are structured makes them profoundly egocentric. The question is how God treats us rather than how he treats all humanity.

Lot's Wife Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> The way many religions are structured
> makes them profoundly egocentric.


Personal God problem.

The problem is that the LDS Church taught us to think of God as a Father. Who else do you turn to when you need help, but to a parent? My prayers were specifically based on the prayers that the Book of Mormon taught me to pray. But it didn't seem to be working.

From my perspective, I was turning to a parent for help during a time when I wasn't even sure if I wanted to be here, and it seemed that they were not at all interested in being there for me.

I was always taught to think of my prayers not being answered as Heavenly Father acting as a loving father who knew these trials and struggles were crucial to my growth. It was always compared to something innocuous, like a child struggling to do something they don't have the skills for yet.

Yeah, no duh. If I were skilled like God, I could make my problems go away by myself. But I can't. So I have to rely on the actual God to do something for me. Him standing back and allowing me to suffer doesn't elevate me to Godhood.

Or they compare it to a kid whining petulantly to get their own way. Sometimes, we refrain from giving them everything because they end up spoiled and entitled and they don't appreciate the value in things. First off, a loved one dying isn't me being a whiny, spoiled brat when I pray to Heavenly Father. A situation where I am financially drowning and lose my job isn't me wanting everything handed to me on a platter. Am I sometimes selfish and lazy? Sure am. But a God who selects only certain special people to speak for Him telling me I must be grateful for merely living has something out of order to term ME a spoiled brat for asking for relief from a being that could supposedly deliver it but won't.

I would never treat my kids the way God has treated me. loving father isn't the right metaphor. It's more like, he's the CEO of a big company, never home, never answers phone calls, always pushes you off onto his secretary. And when you ask for help with schoolwork or help with money, it's "Tch! You only ever contact me when you want something!" You know what, Dad? You didn't show up to the ball games or science fair. What do you want from ME?

It's simply less painful to think I'm alone here rather than be left feeling abandoned.

Can't ever remember an instance where I relied on he/she/it...kinda knew there was nothing there.

Back in the day, I made lots of deals with gawd. Some I messed up on my part, and some gawd messed up on his part. Just how is a hormonal teenager supposed to take a long hot shower without, you know, accidentally not keeping his part of a stupid agreement?

My take on life
When you are here you are here
When you are gone you are gone.
I have come to believe that the best thing to do is to enjoy what you can while you can.