Faith... Grace... Mercy... Salvation... Redemption...
I am told that I have these things.
I am told that these things are given.
Free. Free of charge to me.
I am told that things that are free should be checked of their quality,
but how am I supposed to do that if I am given things not tangible to human fingers.
"By God." They tell me.
"Everything he gives is true."
How do I believe you?
How can I know?
"Ask him." They tell me.
"You must ask questions of the Lord, not of the people."
How do I ask questions of someone I don't even know?
How do I come to know Him without asking questions?
Contradictions around every corner invade my thoughts as I plunge into the dark depths and roaring waves of curiosity.
Curiosity killed the cat, you know.
"And satisfaction brought it back." They tell me.
I will never be satisfied with this.
There is no proof.
Yet, there is no disproof.
I am supposed to rely on blind faith.
"Those turned away from the Lord are blind." They tell me.
But do they know that calling someone blind only hinders their own vision?
I'd like to tell them the truth.
I'd like to tell them I've lied.
Because I'm not sure if I believe you when you say that Jesus died
A tomb. Buried inside.
Rose from the dead, death defied.
It's what I've been taught.
What I grew up believing.
And all those thoughts now something is theiving them, deceiving them.
I'd like to say it's me.
I'd like to say it's only been this past hour.
But I don't know if I believe in a divine power.
I'd appreciate if they'd just leave me alone.
Alone to figure things out.
Because when I'm alone, I'm not really.
They're still there with their snide comments thrashing around in the raging sea of my mind.
I want to scream.
I want to shout 'Shut the hell up!!'
But they won't listen.
No one will. Because I'm only fifteen.
And what could I possibly know about anything.