Some days I’m afraid that I may be losing faith in Faith.
I look around at the damage done in the name of God, and the grief just comes like a flood.
Lately I find that I almost defiantly live and pray and believe, all the while pushing back the nagging questions always nipping at my heels of my belief:
Isn’t faith supposed to be a balm for humanity?
Isn’t it supposed to be that beautiful, invisible force that compels us to bring healing and hope and light?
Shouldn’t religion if it’s worth having, make things better?
Shouldn’t it leave in its wake a trail of goodness and peace and hope for this hate-weary world?
Shouldn’t it yield equality and decency and unity and justice for everyone?
Shouldn’t something truly of God, leave people more whole than when it found them?
Because that doesn’t seem to be happening with great regularity.
I’m not so sure religion as an experiment is working.
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