Faith is a tricky thing. It’s something that can be a source of great strength. It can comfort in the darkest places. It can redeem the most damned souls. It comes to those in the depths who have nothing else.


I used to have faith. When I was younger, I firmly believed in the rightness and all-encompassing great goodness that was the one true Almighty God. I used to feel a sense of peace when I entered a church. I felt a connection to Jesus Christ. I had faith that God could do no wrong.


I just visited the chapel on my campus a little over an hour ago. I’m not sure how long I was there. Half an hour, perhaps? Not much longer than that, though. And at first, there were a few people there. They were practicing with bells. It was pretty music, but I really wanted to have a solitary moment there. And they left not long after. But even while they were there, all I felt was this vast lonely emptiness. It only intensified after they left. For the first time in my life, I felt abandoned – as if I was no longer worthy of receiving God’s love.


This is the first time I’ve set foot in a Catholic Church since my freshman year with the intent of speaking with God. Before that, it had been five years since I’d entered a Christian place of worship. This was partly due to choice and partly due to moving to Washington. My mother was never able to find a church she liked after we moved out there. As for me, I had begun losing my faith in God about a year or so before we ever moved. So I’ve been agnostic, more or less, since fifth or sixth grade. For some reason, I just…I didn’t feel that same peace in a church. I didn’t feel the absolute rightness of God. I felt as if He had turned His back to me. I don’t know where those feelings come from – I still don’t. But even when His back had been turned, I didn’t feel abandoned. There was some hope, I suppose.


Faith is a tricky thing. It’s something that can be a source of struggle. It can destroy lives in the greatest heights. It can corrupt the purest souls. Without cause, it abandons some in the depths with nothing else to hold on to.


I’ve seen both sides of this coins. Not to their greatest extents, but I have seen them. I’m always questioning faith – my old faith, the faith of others. Not to be rude or antagonistic, but because I want to know. I want to know why. Why? That is the question perpetually before me. Nothing specific attached to it. Just why. Why?