believe or not believe?

(constatando o quão volúvel eu posso ser)

when i was a kid, my mom, like good christian woman she is, taught me how to pray. “bend on your knees sweetheart and cross the hands like this”, she used to say. i was young and really didn’t know what was all that for. i mean, it’s hard for a kid to understand the power of something that you can’t see or touch. but even so, there was me every day, praying and talking, a little bit confused i must confess, with my God. i just realized the meaning of all that many years before when my belief started to fall apart.

its called faith when you believe in something that you cannot see or feel, but you know exists. like when i was beside my bed talking with the ceiling with my crossed hands. i was having faith. and i have to say that i liked to do that. you know, believe that there are something more upstairs looking for us, protecting and keeping the bad things away. since then the only thing that i though could protect me was my mom. my flesh and bone mom that with just one hug could filled me up with confidence every time i was scared.

but now i had angels all around me. like guardians surrounding my room. it felt so good that sensation of being watched by someone good every time. i wasn’t scared anymore. there was nothing to fear about, the angels were keeping all the evil away from me. i was safe. sometimes, when i was scared to hell, i just lay down behind the sheets and started to figure out how the angels looked like. i’d like to imagine they like people, like my mom. dressed in white, with kind blue eyes. in a couple of minutes the fear was gone.

(…)

it was a long, long time ago. from that time to now i’ve heard lots of things about angels and God. it’s impressive all the theories that surround this religious universe. it was when i stopped for think about the meaning of all that. trying to find a way to prove to myself that all that stuff was real. the beginning of my faithless. i guess sometimes you don’t have to think about things, just believe in it, because when you try to prove it become senseless. part of me still believes and sometimes i still catch myself praying in my thoughts. but the other part, the one that i call my “complex of Saint Thomas” half, keeps arguing if a bunch of words will have any effect.

it’s like if i’m divided in two completely different persons; the believer guy that still believes in how people can be good when they want to; and the faithless man that, every time that turns on the tv and see the wars around the world, insist of saying “if there is somebody watching all this, it’s better start doing something”.

frankly? yes, i still believe. i don’t know for sure, but deeply inside me i can feel a tiny hope that something is being doing to fix the humanity. i don’t know when it will happen, but i can’t let myself to not believe in change. if i could, well, i think i would be lost forever. because faith, and now i realize, it’s the only thing that hinders me to become one of these lost souls.

maybe God do write right in not straight lines, who knows?

murilo