I used to be certain.
Not just confident or comfortable, but certain in the way only a young person can be when handed a complete system and told it explains everything. I had been taught a theology that divided the world neatly into what was true and what was false. It came with answers for every question that mattered and, more importantly, it came with the assumption that those answers were final.
I didn’t question it. Why would I? It was what I had been given. It felt like truth because it felt like home.
When I listen to people argue about theology now, I often recognize something uncomfortably familiar. I hear the same tone of certainty I once had. I see people defending systems they didn’t build but have fully embraced. They assume their conclusions are objectively true and everything else is objectively wrong.
I understand that mindset because I once lived there.

Unless your spirit’s been broken, your flaws will always be hidden
I don’t really hate you, honest; I’m just afraid you may hurt me
As financial pain piles up, things just might turn ugly in America
Everybody has times when he needs someone to save his life
Sorry, Hillary: Research shows it doesn’t take a village to raise a kid
I wanted to be Capt. James Kirk; have I become Ignatius J. Reilly?
Cat’s ordeal reminds me that bad things happen right under my nose
I’m writing a book — and I’ll be talking about it as it progresses
Without real human connection, we’re just living in a simulation