Blank disbelief was my reaction
the day faith disappeared into the black hole.
My life’s experience of God,
a rich storehouse of meaning–
suddenly and inexplicably empty.
There was no painful grappling
with an angel from God,
no kicking and screaming as religious certainty
was dragged out the door,
no intellectual duels agonizingly lost,
no moral crisis to point to
and say there, that is what happened,
that is where I stopped believing.
It was nothing like that.
One morning I woke up to no God at all.
A reverse rapture
where I was surrounded by the faithful
while the presence of God in me
was snatched away.
Nothing left behind, not even
the possibility of the presence of God.
First, a period of coasting,
frantically checking all controls,
trying this, trying that
all the while muttering
“This can’t be happening.”
Next, there’s trying to pass for normal
in the congregation of the faithful,
mouthing prayers and hymns
as lifeless as cement.
Scripture lying dead on the table.
Finally, the bleak realization
that I was exiled,
unchurched in the land of the living.
Why did God disappear?
How did God disappear?
A long dark year cannot be forgotten
even though slowly, imperceptibly
faith dawned again.
One morning knowing,
I was again a believing-in-God person.
God, out of my dark night
you have graced me with your presence.