I Don’t Find Religion Fascinating

I grew up with a Jewish father, a mother inspired by Wicca,
and agnostic teachings.

Essentially, parents who told me I could decide what I wanted to be.

It was up to me to question what needed to be questioned.

Better to seek out the answers instead of taking things at face value, they’d say.

I try to study religious documents but bore easily.

I can’t relate to ancient texts and consider the man on the corner screaming scriptures at the sinners walking by far more terrifying than the choice to live with uncertainty.

I don’t have a concrete set of beliefs. I am amenable.
An ear to the ground, I am willing to listen and admit when I’ve been wrong.
I have no interest in idols. Worship has never been in my vocabulary.

If there is a God, I believe she would be less interested in the specifics.
There would be no tally system of how often you prayed to her or who you successfully converted.

If there is a God, I believe she would be amenable, too.

An ear to the ground, hands outstretched.

She would ask you to question,
To never let faith be the only force driving you.