The Spinster's Soliloquy

I used to think I rejected God.

But, looking back, it wasn’t God I was rejecting at all. I was rejecting an idea that I had made up in my head based on untruths I told myself out of loneliness.

When I was a little girl and starting to make sense of the world, I noticed my parents and older brother had burdens I couldn’t understand. My father traveled a lot, making my mother essentially a single mother. We also moved around a lot, so she had to figure out how to move our family forward in a new city or town without the support of her family that she was used to. My brother is seven years older than I and didn’t care to hang out with his annoying little sister.

No one made out to make me feel lonely, but I was.

I spent a lot of time by myself or in a house full of busy people. Sometimes, exhausted people. Occasionally, grouchy people.

My mother teases that I was a needy child. Always wanted attention and affection. I asked a lot of questions and wanted to play with my silly dolls and stuffed puppies.

I say she teased me about it because it’s painful to know she wasn’t teasing at all. To stop what she was doing to attend to my less vital needs was an unwelcome distraction. I was in the way.

When you’re a lonely child, you must make sense of the world all on your own with little guidance. And, because you’re a child with no life experience, you’re usually wrong about things.

I was five or so when I started to realize the world could be harsh and cold, and no one was there to warm me in their arms or at least lend me their coat.

I knew a little about God. As much as a five-year-old could. I had a cassette tape with all the major bible stories on it, and I played it over and over on my headphones. My father called me his little religious fanatic.

Over time, it occurred to me that they were just stories. Like my ET cassette narrated by a very young Drew Barrymore, who played Gertie. I couldn’t hear God like Noah or Moses could. I never saw a miracle like the ones Jesus performed.

I also never felt his presence. He was a distant watcher, judge, and jury. If he loved me so much, why did I feel so lonely? Why should I praise and worship Him if He lets people suffer? He had rules I took for granted. Duh… don’t kill. He arbitrarily punished good people. Some of His followers didn’t follow His rules, yet were still blessed. I was confused and alone, and He didn’t want to lend me his coat either.

As I grew older, I saw him as someone to hide from, like Adam and Eve tried to do. I was breaking rules left and right, hoping he didn’t see or care.

After a while, it was I who didn’t care. The connection was so weak I lost sight of it, and it occurred to me He wasn’t even real. The Old Man in the Sky seemed as silly as the Easter Bunny, and I wasn’t going to fall for it.

Science told me how the world was created and evolved. Common knowledge taught me how to be a good person, even though I wasn’t one. We were apes, and when we died, there was nothing. Dead like a rotten apple that fell from the tree. Worms and all.

Although I was too smart to believe in God as an adult, I still clasped my hands and squeezed my eyes shut to pray when life got real. When I needed a miracle, protection, and sometimes forgiveness.

Now, looking back, I never stopped believing. Even when I told myself or others, I believed. When I told people I was pro-choice, I knew it was murder. When I read about evolution, I knew God kicked it off. He started with a bang.

But it wasn’t until I stopped hiding in the darkness and brought my mess out into the light that I felt His warmth. Peace. Love and a quiet joy. Companionship. Hope. It wasn’t God that I was rejecting; it was a lonely child’s perception of God that I didn’t believe in. I already believed in the Protector and the Savior.

I don’t need anyone to lend me their coat anymore. My world is warmer now, and I feel like I’m already covered in the softest wool.