God is not the Lincoln Memorial. (My religious beliefs or lack thereof.)

But when I was little that was the picture in my head. A larger-than-life bearded man in a throne of a chair, all white (like clouds). At some point I grew out of that.
My mom is Catholic, my dad is nothing in particular… agnostic maybe? I’ve never interrogated him. Not an official religion anyway.
At some point halfway through the preparation for my Confirmation, I realized that while I did rather like the rituals, I didn’t really believe. I didn’t get up for Communion the next Sunday.
My mom exploded in the car after church.
Then she wanted me to go through with it, “in case I changed my mind later.” I attempted to point out that it wouldn’t have any meaning if I did that, but she said it’d be easier than doing it later. (That wasn’t a very effective argument.) When someone else (someone within the church) made the same point as me, she did listen.
I’m kinda floating in a haze of agnosticism, though I do feel like there’s something, I just don’t know what.
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Gotta love thoughtdumps.

a bit from my paper journal, a collection of thoughts

“Catholicism – walking in a snowy parking lot – cold & slushy, more flakes coming down – grey all around – stained glass – confusion, questions – crosses – smoke and candles – inconsistencies – disagreement – unexplained – unexplainable? – books”

I was raised Catholic.  But I didn’t really believe.  So when Confirmation approached, I told my mom I wasn’t doing it.  (A fight ensued.)

I sometimes wish I believed in someone to pray to.

But I don’t.  And I can’t just wake up and decide to.

I can’t just throw faith out into a mysterious something that may or may not have someone in it.

This needs more thought.