More Melanoma Musings and Thoughts on Floundering Faith

I have been struggling lately with several things. Grief, cancer, chronic pain to name a few, but the one that keeps circling in my head is faith, belief in God or some higher power.

Perhaps it’s muscle memory from my Catholic childhood, but when facing hardships, my first instinct is to pray…despite the ambiguous recipient. Maybe a few years of being “on fire for the lord,” and praying with fervor embedded this instinct in my DNA. Perhaps, it’s a deep knowing in me reaching out to a deep knowing in the universe: Namasté. Maybe I’m ambitiously mimicking my friends’ faith, hopeful that mine might return.

Although I’ve been agnostic/atheist/not-religious-but-spiritual for a good part of my life, at times I’ve envied people of faith. Mostly when I wanted to believe some greater power was orchestrating the events of my life. Other times I’ve scoffed at faith when people treated God like Santa Claus. Or worse, when they painted him as a judgmental “father” who ironically hates all the same people they do. My friends do not care about my faith. They pray over and for me. They intercede and “stand in the gap.” They ask, knowing my agostic/athe-ism, “Can I pray for you?” Always yes. Pray, anoint, lay your hands and throw the holiest water on me. I will take it all.