I was brought up a believer – in Jesus Christ, that is. There was never a doubt in my mind from the time I was seven years old in First Communion Class in the Catholic Church that Jesus Christ, and God, His father, made me. The nun would ask, “Who made you?”, and in all my childish innocence I would answer, “God made me”. I believed as a child. Without question or doubt. After all, this was church. This was God. This was the one place you didn’t mess around.
I have to admit a little bit of fear was part of the persuasion. Going to “confession” in that dark booth with an ominous priest on the other side of that little sliding door was enough to persuade any seven year old church was no place to mess around. The funny thing was, through all the ritualism and fear tactics, a seed of faith was planted. I grew that seed on my own. Even as a small child my prayers went from the contrived (Lord’s Prayer) to just conversation, in my own words between me and God. I fully believed I just had to ask and I would be given. Throughout grade and high school God rescued me from many sticky situations. When I had no where else to go (my fear of parents was much greater than my fear of God) I always went to Jesus/God as I used to call Him. Since my faith was a part of my life just as my hair was always a part of my head, I never had cause to stop and ask “Why believe?”.
As you know, on Friday’s I participate in a blog hop. On the bottom of either my Friday or Saturday posts the other blogs in the hop appear. I always take time to click on a few that interest me. I discover a wealth of information as well as different points of view on things I often think about. Our blog hop is hopping it’s way through the alphabet and last Friday was the letter “H”. One post was billed as H is for Happy, Happy, Happy. When I clicked on it I found the name of the blog was Where Do I Fit In?. Upon reading it, the comment I left the blogger was “This is one of the best explanations I have ever read about why a person believes”, and I wanted to share it with you.
And so, as another day goes by, I take a look around at the things I own, nod, and know that while my possessions make me smile, they are not the source of my happiness, and…I have written.
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