Tag Archives: beliefs

PARENTAL GUIDANCE

Science is defined as; a branch of knowledge or study dealing with a body of facts or truths systematically arranged and showing the operation of general laws: the mathematical sciences.

Religion is defined as; a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, esp. when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.

He questions and theorizes more than most adults I know, and while I’ve always taken this as opportunity to share my own thoughts and beliefs with him, I’ve always made it clear that before reaching any type of conclusion, he gather the facts, weigh the variables and listen to his inner voice, which each of us has been gifted with for a reason.

He met me on the porch when I arrived home the other day, happy to see me, and clearly in need of clarifying conversation. Seems he’d learned something in Science class that day that completely went against his knowledge of Religion. And I specifically use the term ‘knowledge,’ because while his grandfather is a God fearing preacher man, his father a spiritual man of faith, his mama does not conform to the ideology that organized religion would have us believe, though he has always been provided the necessary tools and guidance to draw his own conclusions on which to form his base of beliefs.

I didn’t panic and search my mind for a suitable, passable answer, though I did silently muse, at reaching this inevitable stage at such an early age. Instead, I told him what my mother once told me, when years ago I’d asked a similar question. She said simply this, “I would rather have faith and believe and find out that I was wrong and it was all just a lie, than to live my life not believing, only to find out it was the truth and I was wrong.”

I was probably in my late twenties at the time, and I remember that being the most profound thing I’d ever heard, and so it would be, the decision made, which in reality was no decision at all. He immediately smiled and I saw the same relieved expression in his eyes that I too felt; and that’s when I took it a step further and asked him simply, “if you whittle that down, to the bare essence of the statement, what have you really got?” He thought about it for a minute, his expression completely changed, his eyes met mine and just as I knew he would, answered quite simply, “Fear.”

None of us are born with the knowledge of God, it’s a set of beliefs taught by man; and what purpose and means of such teaching, depends solely on the one doing the teaching.

As Dostoevsky once said, “If you were to destroy the belief in immortality in mankind, not only love but every living force on which the continuation of all life in the world depended, would dry up at once.”

Just something to think about…

©2011 Jill Terry

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Means to an end

means to an end

With old patterns faltering in the wake of time, serving him less and less; desperation creeps, then slowly sets in.

Searching for something real to cling to; in a world of illusion and cheap parlor tricks; of which he created and has always dwelled.

Better to be an imaginary somebody, than a real no body; his platform, his soapbox, his mission, his salvation.

Spewing his gospel as weightless as smoke rings, growing bored with his half dozen converts; unable to stroke his monstrous ego; he sees only one place left to go.

One soul he touched. Upon a time was touched by. He refuses to release and let go. Disguised as forgiveness, he sets about his mission; back to the only arms left, that wait wide open.

Naïve and weak, yet privy to his ways; a masochist for certain, to take him back in. She is not the reason, but merely a convenience. Providing him shelter, buying him time; bringing him closer to where he believes salvation resides.

The beautiful butterfly, with delicate wings; once so fragile, easily ravaged; consumes his thoughts, still rules his darkness; and so true to predator form, of which he will always be, he sets about stalking, making connections; broadcasting his relation, as if guaranteeing him a position. Wasting time, sniffing and searching; for the butterfly has morphed, long ago taken flight.

And so time ticks on, for this wasted life; over educated and under achieved. When he could have soared to the greatest of heights; been a true inspiration, perhaps a revered master. But the only expertise, he can lay claim in the end; is leaving a trail of pain, in the wake of his disaster.

© jillterry


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