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.

My father’s death was proof that unhappiness quickly kills a man
Genuine love is always extreme — and it rarely makes any sense
In a cold and disconnected world, it’s very simple to fake happiness
Here’s the jobs growth Obama promised—in federal workers
You finally have to stop making excuses for people who hurt you
Left-wing distortions of church just as toxic as right-wing kinds
My heart longs for a future that’s more real to me than the dim past
Why does the mainstream ignore those whose predictions were right?
Well, if you really want to know, this is what I’m still looking for