What happened there?

"This is Sherry and this is Jessica. They used to be my Bible study teachers, but now they don't believe in God."

How's that for an introduction?

As I was sitting on the couch, a girl sat down next to me. She said, "You used to be Meghan's Bible study teacher, but now you don't believe in God. What happened there?"

She was attempting to sound casual, but I knew better. I am almost positive that I detected the slightest bit of tension in her voice; the kind of tension that comes from trying to be lighthearted about something that isn't in the least bit light. I knew where she was going because it wasn't long ago that I was in her shoes. I can clearly remember feeling a tremendous, overpowering sense of responsibility for witnessing to the "lost". And, for a Christian, there are few things more deeply disturbing than a fellow follower who has lost her way. There is the undeniable urge to fix, the thought that a few well-spoken words, a bit of scripture, and perhaps a personal testimony will set the person back on the path towards righteousness.

It's not that I don't want to believe. I miss believing that my life had a special purpose, and I miss the comfort that comes from believing that everything happens for a reason. When I believed in God, I found such comfort in knowing that He was only a prayer away. I was never truly alone. It didn't matter that I didn't know what the Plan was or how we were going to get there. I just had to trust that He knew.

I didn't choose to walk away from the faith because I didn't like being told what to think or how I should behave. The truth is that a big part of me wishes that I could believe. I've realized, little by little, that despite wanting to believe, I simply can't. My prayers were a monologue and, aside from me, there was no one else listening. I'm in a place now where I truly believe that I can no more go back to believing in God than I can go back to believing in Santa.