Mortality

So I determined to start this blog today, since it is, in fact, Ash Wednesday, in order to figure out what I think about God, who seems extremely distant. I don't have much to say at the moment since I have waited until the very last half-hour of Ash Wednesday possible to begin writing, and I am now entirely ready for bed, but I will give a brief outline of what I intend to do here.

I grew up in a conservative Christian Evangelical household. My parents were missionaries for fifteen years of my childhood. I went to a Christian college. I married a Christian. I have two small children. I now go to a charismatic Christian church... and I am beginning to realize slowly but surely that my entire conception of Christ and God could be socially and psychologically constructed. It may be surprising that I have not been forced to process this concept before now, but when you are taught from your earliest memories to believe in Jesus, you just don't question it. Perhaps the real reason I am questioning it now is because I am realizing that I have already begun the same process in my own children. My three-year-old daughter believes that Jesus exists. Just last week I overheard her yelling angrily at him for not helping her go potty.

For these reasons, I decided I really need to figure out what I think before she gets much older. Like I need to start now.

Adding to my Lenten experience is the fact that my grandfather is in the hospital dying. He is the first of my or my husband's grandparents to begin this process, and it is a bizarre experience, especially in the company of a curious three-year-old. It is forcing me to examine my life, my marriage, and what I value. For example, I am realizing that I do not want my marriage to look anything like my grandparents' in 55 years. It looks awful.

You can also imagine that watching my grandfather die is reinforcing my awareness of human mortality, which is what we heard about at the Ash Wednesday service I attended with my sister this morning. We are dust, and to dust we shall return.