The Evolution Of God

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The Evolution of God; Or the Way I Altered My Perception to Meet My Needs I came to the realization that the God of my Catholic childhood exists; formatting my creed and conduct. The God of my adolescence was present; tolerant of smoking in the parking lot, partaking in a bit of weed, and drinking on Saturday nights. The God of stability, ritual and composition from the days of rearing my children; cohabitates in this vessel as well. The God of the median of my life is the accumulation of experiences that directed me thus far. The God of my swan song; I assume will revert to the one of my innocence. You can take the girl out of the Cathedral; etc. The evolution of the species is received in society and scientific ideology; relayed in classrooms and revered as fact. Why not the progression of the spirit and the structure of religious thought? My own development with God corresponds with changes my life has experienced. God created me; yet did I alter God to meet my requirements? Did I fashion Him in my own image; to my specifications; in order to prevail; free of guilt from my actions? My core conviction is that all religions and followers of God, base their creed on love. It is prevalent in rituals, tomes and standards. Love is the foundation; pageantry enhances the encounter. Structures, days of the Sabbath, composition and pomposity may differ; but the essence remains the same. We are born of love; we treat others with the respect do them and we are rewarded with everlasting existence. I am not the philosopher of such ideals; they are vast. I am a student of my own theory; learning, living, misbehaving and repenting. Have I envisioned a religion to satisfy my own desires ā€“ thus fulfilling the prophesy of all other theologians from Constantine to Jim Jones? Such extremes offend ā€“ yet, do they not hold similarities? Didn't these artisans of religiosity utilize the concepts of God and arrange them in a tapestry of ego and power; while offering: camaraderie, structure and fear of retaliation for sin? Have I constructed a belief system convenient to my busy life? After all, if God is not contained in a building then Iā€™m relieved of the duty to congregate for hours on the Sabbath. If God does not smite me in retribution for straying; have I excused my less than conventional ways? Did I conveniently concoct this theory in order to sleep in on Sunday? Or is God truly present in my heart and not within masonry and stained glass? I have struggled with the conviction of my faith; never the lack of it. Will I burn in

Hell or linger in Purgatory for not partaking in the Sacrament? Or, will I be embraced because of the love I have for the Deity and the commitment I have made to others? My conviction to giving back more than I receive has ebbed and waned; but the desire and devotion stand firm. As I progress; I discover this principle difficult; yet more than worthwhile of my dedication. I believe that Hell exists within; not in fire and brimstone. The demons inside: challenge me, torment me and pull me from my direction. My faith in God, aids my struggle against my own temptations. I believe in Heaven; where I will re-unite with those past. Meadows are covered with lilac and heather. Insanity, cruelty and hatred are blown away like the seeds of a dandelion. Then why am I terrified of death? What if I am wrong? What if scientific theory, secular reconditioning and agnostic ideals are correct? What if man is no more than the production of multiplying cells; only to expire into nothingness? The conclusion of oblivion to my ego is inexcusable; yet frightens the Hell out of me. I choose, for I cannot deny; to believe there is something greater than myself. The evidence of such conclusion is everywhere: in my children, in the flowers I tend to, in the words that flow through my fingers. The existence of God is unquestionable for me. The practice in which I adore Him is ever changing; and will continue to do so. I can only imagine the Deity finding amusement in my pontification of His existence; and lovingly adding more proof for me to ponder.

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