The Silly Thoughts of a Farm Girl (Part I)
An Attempt to Get the Unlawful Resident, god, to Vacate My Mind.
Do you ever feel life pulling at your beliefs, like a game of tug-of-war? One moment, they are your anchor; the next, they are dragging you down.
Faith can ground you, shape you—even cage you. But what happens when the door swings open, and you’re too afraid to leave? When was the last time you questioned something you thought was absolute? A rule, a tradition, a belief so ingrained that doubting it felt like committing a sin?
I wasn’t planning to confront my faith that day. It’s not every day you stumble upon a Bible torn to shreds, its pages fluttering across a busy London street.
It annoyed me.
“That’s littering,” I thought. “Someone is going to have to pick that up. And what the hell was that person doing, disrespecting the Word of god like that?”
Maybe it was done with an agenda. I’ve heard some evangelists like doing things like that. But this was no pristine Bible meant for distribution; it was used and lived-in. Some of the pages were marked, underlined and even had handwritten notes on them. It brought back memories of my lost Bible.
*Could this have been the work of an evangelist with a passion… or something else?
What if this was an act of rebellion? A religious rebellion!
For some, rage is the mask they wear to cover pain and disappointment. In that moment, I felt their rage, and i felt their pain. It wasn’t empathy; (i)I was projecting. I(i) was there myself.
The more I kept looking at it, i realised that I was staring at the ruins of my own convictions. It was a mirror—a fragmented reflection of a Faith I couldn't call mine anymore. This act of rebellion stirred memories and questions I had buried long ago, questions that began to unravel my faith thread by thread. A faith deconstruction. I didn’t just see the remnants of a book—i(I) felt the weight of a faith i(I) could no longer carry.
Torn between desperation and defiance, (i)I longed to pray to a god I was certain i couldn’t seem to trust.
*Had I lost the ability to trust in spirituality all together? What did it mean to pray to a deity I doubted? Was it a reflex, born from the muscle memory of faith?
My disbelief denial and hunger for truth were locked in a fierce battle, forcing me to face the fragility of my conviction. The act of praying felt silly, but necessary-a moment of vulnerability where Logic had no choice but to leave its ego at the door. With a spark of rage waiting to detonate within me, i silently whispered into God’s ear:
“Like a card I(i) reach from a deck of tarot, (i)I pick the letters of your Word. Speak! If You exist”
Much like today, I was desperate. It was a cry for help from a god I had loved and worshiped faithfully, until now. I tend to lie to myself, saying it doesn’t matter that god keeps me on mute or leaves my prayers on ‘read’, like a ghosted text message in the void of heaven. My side of the story is that I had loved god unconditionally, while the Catholic Church gaslighted me into believing it was the other way around.
I am enraged, but i still tie a rosary around my wrist. (i)I admit I’ve taken it off a couple of times this year. It’s not a fashion choice. Sometimes, I look at it like it’s Sri Lankan hospitality-treating everyone but each other with friendliness and kindness. That pretty much sums up my complex and one-sided relationship with god.
I admitted to a friend during one of our many “out of pocket” conversations that, growing up, god was my third parent. The one with the most power, yet chronically unavailable. As someone who took a chance on this god, investing time, effort, and money for the “Kingdom”, I felt the sting of betrayal more deeply than ever. I had a bone to pick with this god!
*Yes, if I had a Bible, I would have ripped it up and scattered it in the streets of Whitechapel too. And how poetic and bold to do it in front of a mosque at that.
If history is any indication, we use religion among our buffet of differences to divide and conquer. I live in a godless world.
In my world, god does not part the ocean or defy nature to speak through the flames. Sustenance does not fall from the sky like Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.
The dead remain dead, and the hungry lions don’t sleep in dens people get locked in.
*Okay, that one is my fault. i want the damn lions to wake up.
Think about it: what if Moses, David and Daniel were just politicians claiming to be chosen by god? And they apparently kept hearing god’s “loud” voice too? Wouldn’t a normal person put their glass of wine down and think:
“What’s in this wine? Maybe I should quit”.
Instead, these folks of the Bible intentionally set a mission and went on a journey to divide and conquer. In some eyes, they were heroes; in others, villains. It all depends on what side of history you look at it from. Personally, it’s difficult to view these characters as villains. My controversial opinion is that I’m just looking at it from the side of history that prevailed. Someone of power decided to write down history from their humble but possibly biased judgment. The Bible could be referred to as an “opinion piece”.
*Who is god? Here we go again! What do I know? How dare I question his holy Word? What gives me the authority to challenge the existence of god? Do my words bring shame to my proud ‘charismatic Catholic’ family? Or does the shame stop with me because (i)I am my own person? Who do i think I am?
I am an imposter. Faith, in my experience, is often an act. A performance i stage for myself and others, hoping the role will feel real one day. The mask has slipped too many times to count and this time, i(I) refuse to put it back on.
If i were in the room when Jesus let his disciples touch his wounds after resurrecting from the dead and said:
“…because thou hast seen Me, thou hast believed. Blessed are they that have not seen and yet have believed.” (John 20:28-29; KJV)
I would have sheepishly raised my hand all the way from the back and said:
“Hey Jesus, blessed person here with something silly to say. i’m sorry for imposing-(i)I know you just woke up from a well-deserved nap after being crucified. This is the last thing you need to hear, especially since you're trying to prove a point to the mates that abandoned you, but I smell a conspiracy here. you might call it ‘lack of Faith’; I call it Logic.”
*Yes, I(i) have witnessed events that are unexplainable even to the most logical parts of myself. So called ‘miracles’. But I confess I still struggle to truly believe.
The narrative playing on a loop in my mind is that growing up, all god had provided me with was a list of beliefs and values about what is moral and immoral.
Moral = HeavenImmoral = HellI held these beliefs and values close to my heart. I let it lead and guide me. Now, in my 30s, i have been challenging the narrative more than I ever have. It’s bittersweet. i(I) keep telling myself that clarity will feel better once I am on the other side.
To god- the necessary evil from my past life. The One who called all the shots. The One i(I)’ve publicly called out and challenged.
Be more resilient!
You are God, after all.
What’s next on the horizon? Another cliché?
We’ve been playing hide and seek for far too long; its your turn.
Find me!
If you exist.
Until next time,
Minoli Christeen
Sri Lanka Self-confidence resilience Inspirational Sri Lankan bloggers Sri Lankan's in Australia Personal growth Motivational Confidence Sri Lankan pride Diaspora blogs Personal development journey introvert peace hope kindness authenticity purpose self-acceptance wisdom courage Sri Lankan expat stories Life as a Sri Lankan in the UK inspirational Let your voice be heard Change from within heritage culture Developed nation for you Vision Uphold our values Uphold policies Stand firm on our principles responsible citizens SLPP UNP JVP National People's Power Sri Lanka People's Freedom Alliance Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna United National Party Samagi Jana Balawegaya Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna Tamil National Alliance SinhalaTamil Illankai Tamil Arasu Kachchi Muslim Congresssocial justice welfare anti-corruption
