Only Us (Justin Fields)

|19| Non-Believer

Justin

Something I've learned about Jillian is that she has a different belief system. I guess a better way to explain it is that she lacked one entirely. And I don't think that's a bad thing, but it is scary. Belief is what ties a lot of this to this world. It's that tether that keeps us grounded, it keeps us going. Even if we believe in different things, our understanding that something is out there protecting us, driving us. It allows us to dream, to trust in this life.

So you take that away from someone and what is left? What in this world is promising you a future? Salvation? Once our life is over where will you go? Belief gives us a sense of hope, a glimpse of faith. Without it what is the point?

There's these lyrics to a song that has always kind of stuck with me. They said; human beings in a mob. What's a mob to a king? What's a king to a God? What's a God to a nonbeliever who doesn't believe anything? The most powerful person there is the nonbeliever because there is nothing a god can do if you don't believe in its existence.

If she doesn't believe then it doesn't matter what I believe God can do for her. If he isn't real to her there isn't anything I could convince her of. And I'm not saying she should believe in a God. She doesn't need a religion. But some of these questions she asks might have answers in faith.

"Why don't you join me for church" I ask her. I watch as she puts on her shoes to leave my place.

"I don't think that's a good idea" she replies coldly. I can see in her eyes she didn't want to push it any further. But since Christmas I could pretty much figure out what she truly thought of church. She didn't go but a lot of people who believe didn't go. This was entirely different.

"It's not going to kill you" I try.

"And it's not going to save me either..." she trails off.

Suddenly this all became far too clear to me. Where we stand in this discussion. She had obviously tried to turn to faith before but it had let her down. Hard. And she feels like she has no other reason to believe.

"Maybe if you-" I start.

"Justin I have no business being in a church. Under the eyes of a God who has been blind to me my whole life. I've gotten to the point where I hope he isn't real, because then it would justify how my life turned out the way it did. Honestly I've gone to church more times than most in my situation would. Did my fair share of praying. Of believing. Begging over and over for someone to save me. There's nothing left there for me in that establishment I promise you that" she insists. "If you believe in those kinds of things that's great. I envy your ability to have faith in that which you do not see or cannot touch. I would kill to wake up every day thinking that some kind of invisible force is looking over me. That it will love me unconditionally. That there is something on my side for once. But I spent my whole childhood praying for salvation. Being a good kid because someday it had to come back around. Treat everyone with kindness and that kindness will come back, right? God will save me in the end?

Why did I need to be saved in the first place? I wasn't fighting temptation, I was fighting for my life. Why did I need to suffer? Why did I need to fight for things I was told God would always give me? And I always felt like shit for asking things of him, a warm meal, someone to hold, a place to call home, sometimes it was as simple as a smile from a stranger. I wasn't asking for the world. I simply wanted to be, and I wanted to be happy that I was here.

I was four the first time a foster parent laid their hands on me, so tell me what I could have done at four years old that was so bad that that warranted that kind of punishment? I was six the first time I was locked out of someone's house because I didn't look like them and they didn't want their friends to ask questions. So I sat in 100 degree heat in the middle of Florida watching them laugh from the window. I was ten the first time someone forced themselves on me. And with tears streaming down my face I looked up to the sky and prayed for strength to push him off but I never heard an answer. Every time I was met with silence. I'm sorry but I cannot believe in something that has let me down over and over and over again.

I'm jealous of those who can still afford to believe. Who have the ability to simplify things down to saints and sinners. To heaven and hell. Because I spent my whole life in that grey area and I don't think I will ever fit in with one or the other. Never once had a good enough reason to believe that there is a higher being out there because if there is... it obviously doesn't care for me or millions of other innocent kids. Those are supposed to be trials? Tests to see if we can atone for a sin that we never asked for. I call it cruel. It's inhumane and it's disgusting. I know there are so so many kids with stories like mine praying for someone or something that is never going to come, they don't need to go through that" she explains.

I let out a sigh because I always had faith. Raised in a very Christian household and I do my best to serve my God every day. But I know pushing my faith on others will never unite people. There's been wars about this. And as hard as it was for me to admit, she had every right to spite the ones who were supposed to protect her. Who she looked for in times of need but never saw anyone. And if they couldn't protect her then why should she believe in the ones who were supposed to heal her? There's no excuse.

"I'm sorry" I say and she sighs.

"Please stop apologizing to me. You've done nothing wrong" she insists.

"But I'm still sorry. That I forget we are as different as we are. That you had gone through everything that you have. And that I was insensitive to see your problems" I insist.

"Oh" she says. "Well... how about you go to church and I try out a new vegan recipe? Then you can try it afterwards" she suggests. The fact she still wanted to hang out with me was a surpise. Maybe I didn't shove my shoe too far down my throat this time.

"Okay" I smile.

She heads back to her apartment and I go to church. I sit by myself in the back and look at the cross necklace resting on my chest. My faith has never been shaken. And I don't think it is now. But I do see where she was coming from. I was foolish to think she was ever going to believe again.