With all that said, I still believe in loving one's enemies. I will still go out to eat with family and friends I may adamantly disagree with, and enjoy their company. I will still hold the door open for anyone and everyone, regardless of what they think and believe. I still hold to the motto, "Kill 'em with kindness", even when someone is unjustly attacking me. And, of course, I will always end each day quietly praying for those who spend their lives persecuting others and bastardizing the faith I've grown to profess. 

Still, like Johnny Paycheck says in his song, I'm certainly far from perfect. Like every human, I'm flawed as all hell. I miss the mark regularly. I give into my fears often, and don't always try my best or get along with others. I do have a pretty nasty road-rage habit that, while it's limited to me cussing under my breath, may grow into a much larger issue down the line if I don't nip it in the bud. I still often hate myself, and am my biggest bully and most cynical critic when I know I shouldn't be so mean to myself, which is why I am in therapy and surround myself with people who want the best for me. 

But, I'd still rather not be associated with the After-Church crowd. And, if I don't want to be associated with people who write, "Jesus is all you need" on the tip checks rather than actually give servers the tips they rely on, then why would I want to attend a church with them?

Even if the After-Church crowd didn't discourage me from attending church already, I have a shitload of deconstruction and re-construction to do, faith-wise (and a lot of healing and improving to do on a personal level). Although I still consider myself a Christian, my faith looks very different from the faiths of the Christians who have known me my entire life. I love my Christian grandparents dearly, but I really do my best to avoid the topics of faith and politics with them, because we just don't see eye-to-eye on almost anything. When the topics of faith and politics do come up, I stay relatively silent and just listen. I don't have the energy or will to argue over politics or faith with my grandparents, or anyone for that matter. Especially since, frankly, I don't really know what I believe, religiously or otherwise. 

All that I know is that I believe in Christ, and I accept that there's gotta be some sort of "higher power" that exists outside of our finite little universe. I have experienced Christ (or this Higher Power) on a personal level many times, whether through medical miracles or profound interactions with strangers and wildlife. But, beyond that, I don't really know anything. My list of questions for and about God, if printed on a receipt, could probably stretch from my house to the moon. No amount of books, blogs, Youtube videos, podcasts, conversations, sermons, so on, will be able to answer all (or any) of my questions for and/or about God. 

But, guess what? The more I pray and ponder over this stuff, the more I realize that it's not a bad thing to have so many questions and concerns. It's perfectly okay and normal to have questions and doubts about anything and everything. It's normal and healthy to explore those questions and doubts. It's okay and normal to admit when you don't know something, instead of stutter for an answer that, more likely than not, is wrong.

I've probably been searching for answers and clarifications regarding my faith for close to a decade at this point, almost entirely on my own. And, while the journey's been difficult and hasn't given me many definitive answers, it has been extremely rewarding and soul-strengthening. 

Sadly, the majority of Christians I've grown up around have done the exact opposite as I have, mainly out of fear of tearing down their faith and becoming an agnostic (or worse, an atheist). Why is this? Well, my two theories are: people are deathly afraid of death (pun absolutely intended), and people are terrified of Hell. 

In the minds of so many of the Christians I grew up around, becoming an atheist not only makes life fundamentally meaningless, because the atheist worldview doesn't believe in an afterlife. But, if you die an atheist (or anything else besides an Evangelical Christian who is on fucking fire for the Lord) and end up being wrong about religion, into the eternal Lake of Fire you go! No ifs, ands, or buts.

These fears are what largely drive so many modern Christians these days. Faith based on fear ain't faith at all. It's just fear. If I was as afraid of God as so many Christians are, I wouldn't be fearless of death. I wouldn't feel comforted whenever I open my Bible, or read my scholarly books, or go out in nature to talk to deer and stuff Lilacs up my nose. I wouldn't rely on prayer to soothe my soul when things get rough. I wouldn't thank and praise God in prayer for the good things in life either, if He was as cruel and merciless as so many Fire-and-Brimstone preachers describe Him. In fact, if God truly was like the God such pastors paint Him as, I would rather burn in Hell for eternity than be with Him. 

Thankfully, the God that Scripture truly describes is nothing like that. He's the literal embodiment of perfect love, justice, and mercy, and wishes to have a personal relationship with everyone who has, does, and will exist. As CS Lewis famously said, the gates of Hell are locked from the inside. God doesn't send people to Hell. People send themselves there if they don't want to be in God's presence. And, let's just say I don't think people who persecute and discriminate against everyone who isn't just like them, will be able to withstand the overwhelming, infinite, reckless love of God.