I was brought up to politely dismiss other people’s faith. Faith made no sense to me. What does the word ‘faith’ mean, after all? Isn’t it an admission that there is no logical explanation for your beliefs?

Where does your faith lie? In the spirit, or in the story? And where did this story come from, who wrote it, and why? Those were some of my questions. I was perfectly comfortable as an agnostic.

I didn’t understand your faith, I didn’t believe in what you believed and I may have seen you as misguided, but, I respected your right to believe in God. Still, I would puzzle over how it was that someone who seemed so bright in all other aspects believed in magic and mystery.

But now living in the aftermath of COVID, and knowing how much we were lied to and how much everything was manipulated, I have begun to question everything I have been taught and everything I unconsciously hold as unquestioned truth, and that includes the existence of God.

Now I am admitting that I cannot confidently claim that God does not exist. I cannot know that, and I am open to whatever is true. My wonderful father-in-law said to me, his voice faltering after his first stroke, “People say God exists, they say God talked to them. Well I say, good for them, but I will believe in God when he comes to speak to me directly”. He was funny, and he had a point, but maybe you have to be open to communication in order to hear from the higher realm.

Sometimes we believe in things that we can’t see and can’t prove. For example, the existence of trans people is upsetting to many. The trans trend seems wrong and unnatural and many believe that trans folk have had their minds warped by today’s society. But in defense of the ‘real’ trans folk, I say, do you absolutely know that they are not feeling what they say they are feeling? Are you positive that they don’t have a genetic marker or hormone that changes how they feel about their gender? If you cannot know that, then you should hold your judgement.

And I will apply the same argument to a belief in God. Do you know that there is no God? I don’t think you do know that for sure. Do you know what happens when we die? Do you know if we have souls? Well, let’s just say, you can’t possibly know. Then you too should hold your judgement. You shouldn’t dismiss the emotions and thoughts of those who have a strong belief in God. You don’t have to participate, you don’t have to believe, but you can be respectful.

Whether we are disagreeing on the existence of God, or climate change, people on opposing sides condemn their opposition for being stupid, blind or influenced by ‘misinformation’. Every day the acrimony increases. Why, for what reason? Is there a purpose to the constant bickering and blaming. Are we missing the bigger picture?

In the spirit of open minded investigation, I am re-examining everything that is said on the news or that I carry in my mind as undisputed. For example, why is natural food considered ‘hippy’? Why are hippies made out to be dirty, revolutionary and foolish? Isn’t ‘natural food’ just food? Why are pharmaceutical drugs considered superior and less dangerous than plants ? Can we simply follow follow the trail of money?

Did you know that the US government was experimenting with weather manipulation as early as during the Vietnam war? The rain and the mud were created for the sake of the war. If you accept this as an actual fact, do you feel as comfortable accepting that the fires and tornadoes destroying private residences on prime real estate are all part of global warming?

And if we keep our minds open, we have to keep going. What else have we accepted as normal? Why are spiritual people in popular media and entertainment envisioned as powerless, well-meaning quacks? Why is questioning our barren, destructive materialistic world seen as extreme and ‘out there’?

As a young girl brought up without the church or religion, I did search for meaning. At twelve years old I looked into Buddhism but I found the Buddhist tales meaningless to me. What I saw, as a budding feminist, was that it was once more a man’s point of view. In the origin story about Buddha, he sits under a tree for days, deep in meditation, until he achieves transcendence. What I saw was a man sitting under a tree while others fed the children and cared for the animals. I wondered if all religions were stories written by men for men.

After that I never searched again for spiritual answers. Love for Jesus confused me and churches did not speak to me. I didn’t think organized religion had been good for humanity. You only have to look at the history of religious wars. But as I have lived and grown in knowledge and experiences, my views have slowly softened and ripened.

When it came to parenting, I often made friends with families that chose to put their children first, above everything else. The shared values, the clean food, the careful examination of friends and habits, the intensive analysis of what the child was picking up from school or movies/TV. It turns out that my husband and I shared these traits with families that were religious.

As my stance against religion softened, I began to accept a version of God/Jesus that was the equivalent to ‘Love’. Love is an energy, love is creative and healing. How could believing in love go wrong? How can believing in the power of love hurt anyone? One day pre COVID, I heard singing from a small community church in the north end of Halifax and lingered at the back door. The singing coming from inside was joyous and heart lifting. I admitted to myself that I would attend church in my local neighborhood if I could feel the pure joy of this gathering.

That was the beginning of me starting to lean towards the mystery.

I relented on my sharp criticism on the bad effect of churches. Obviously there have been wars fought in the name of different sects and stands, but that could be put down to human folly. The act of worship or belief is not in itself dangerous. People gathering with no other purpose than to celebrate something spiritual and not of this material world is beautiful. It can be seen as bold and revolutionary in our material world, and what is wrong with believing in a world beyond this earthly life?

I can see why people go to church now. And tea and conversation afterwards? Collecting people together, feeling a part of a community, isn’t this a good thing? And don’t people still go to their rabbi or priest for advice or comforting words? That sounds better than ‘therapy’ to me, and more useful.

These thoughts were as far as my religious tendencies went, until recently when I accidentally really prayed for something. I was resting near one of my children, one that struggles more with dark spirits than he deserves. And I found myself praying to God that he be relieved of his dark demons. Please God, I prayed.

For some reason I did it with great intensity, in such a way that you might pray if you were scared of imminent death. A real and unselfconscious prayer. Please help! I cried out in my mind. I don’t know why I suddenly did that, but I did. And as I sent my thoughts up in my head, I heard a voice say clearly, ‘He is surrounded in love. You surrounded him in love all his life and he is still surrounded in love’.

And I thought, that is true. He is right now and always has been. I figured the voice I heard was my own. I am my own therapist so I have sensible conversations in my head all the day long. But then as my mind felt expansive and my heart was open, I thought, what if that wasn’t your voice, what if it is someone else’s voice.

Maybe it is an angel, or one of those spiritual guides that I have heard about that hang around just waiting for me to call upon them. An ancestor, a deceased parent, or just an archangel who chose me. So I decided to keep listening to this voice. Was it my own voice?

I listened to the voice and my heart responded. I could feel myself almost nodding. My face smiling. You are right, I agreed, he has been surrounded by love all his life. And then the voice said quite clearly, ‘He is strong and healthy and he will live a long, healthy life’.

Now that surprised me. That is not the type of thing I would say to myself. I would be too worried about jinxing his life, or seeming greedy. By now tears were flowing down my cheeks and my head felt light and airy. My mind was free of the worries of a cynical adult. I felt as clean and free as a child.

It was unexpected. I don’t know what to believe but it was beautiful and comforting. Since then I have learned that I can take my weary self to this place, this energy, this place. This voice? If I am really fretting about a decision in my life I have found that the the most useful thing I can do is pray.

Thinking, analyzing, contemplating, and trying to ‘decide’ what to do led to sleepless nights. Asking someone else for guidance led directly to a clear voice. You know what to do, says the voice, and then I do.

Is it God I am talking to, or myself? Is it an angel that cares for me, or my own mind? I don’t know. But I say, please guide me. And then I listen carefully. And if I am truly asking for help, I get very clear answers.

And here is the oddest thing, thinking back on it, as I try to remember the voice I heard that day, the first time I prayed, it really wasn’t a female voice.

Playing it back in my head, it was closer to a soft male voice.

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