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.

Reality no longer seems to matter to dysfunctional culture in denial
After long but necessary detours, the beginning finally nears for me
Apologize while you still can, because you’ll live with regret
A month after my father’s death, it doesn’t feel real that he’s gone
For rest of my life, I’ll constantly re-interpret mother I didn’t know
Childhood programming makes it hard to believe I’m ‘good enough’
As world descends into madness, back away and guard your heart
Best way to fight terror? Turn off your TV and get back to real life
The Alien Observer: