Faith is a hell of thing

It turns out faith is a hell of thing.

When I was young, it was listening to worship music under an open sunroof.

It was a five-finger kind of thing that I could practice on a Friday afternoon.

It was daydreaming about how I would change the world for God while growing handsome, popular, and rich (and having lots of great sex).

It was knowing my prayers were a divine “On Demand” button.

I got older. I lived through some stuff (with more to come, I know).

Faith is darker, edgier, makes less sense.

It’s outreached hands groping the empty space before blind eyes.

It’s clinging to heavenly driftwood in an ocean of hell.

It’s climbing a mountain to get to the moon.