Re-thinking the Music

Re-thinking the Music by Tania K.

A few days ago, a familiar song popped into my head — Chris Rice’s “Hallelujahs.” It’s a song I first heard on a CD years and years ago — a CD that, quite likely, I picked up in the Christian music section at the library. I love that song.

I no longer hold many of the religious beliefs that I used to hold so firmly. God is no longer “You” to me. In the past five or so years, my “soul” has spent more time grieving the loss of my religious faith than welling up with songs of “Hallelujah.” From time to time, I still miss it immensely. I miss the music.

Sometimes I still get caught in picking apart that long chapter of my life. I miss Him and His voice and His spirit, all of which I swore was right there, right beside me, always. I miss it. I shake my head at how easily I believed certain things, how wrapped up I became in the religion. I look at the flaws in Christianity, in the church, in people. I kick myself for how quick I was to think I had it all “figured out” back then. And then after my religious faith began to fall apart, a certain coldness in me brought about new feelings of judgmentalism and irreverence. I could see only the unpleasant things.

Our Father… my Father… my faith… my being. I am reminded that that was a very real part of who I was. That was my world, and it made sense. I was happy there for a long time. And it’s taken time and effort and many books and conversations and crying sessions, but I’m happy here and now, too.

Yes, there has been all the unpleasantness — that is just how life goes sometimes. There have also been all the good things. Sometimes I still listen to the music.

Time goes on. I realize that it’s Sunday morning, and even though I am not on my way to church, there is no longer a crumbling or shattering feeling in my chest. I open a book or Google, and I read about the fascinating things of this world. I contemplate the big questions of life, not with fear or anger, but with curiosity and a sense of peace. I go for a walk. I take in all of this.

I am skeptical, and that is okay. I don’t have to believe it all anymore. I can take the parts of my former religion that offer comfort, hope, happy thoughts, and I can leave the parts that no longer make sense to me.