God and religion and all that

I don't talk to people about religious beliefs because, in my experience, differing opinions on something that personal lead to arguments and, like a pussy, I guess, I try and avoid conflict. But it goes further than that. Sometimes it reaches the point where I can't even question myself about it, for fear of getting myself worked up into some kind of paradoxical turmoil - basically meaning that my beliefs are like a valuable ornament, that you look at every day but don't really think about, and you're fiercely protective of it, despite not really knowing why. After all, a valuable ornament - it's just money, isn't it? Religion - it's just a way of thinking, isn't it?

My parents are strong Christians. Mum is a vicar, ordained into the CofE when I was about ten. I first attended church at five days old, and I've been going most Sundays ever since.

But what does it mean? Really?

It's so frustrating. I hear amazing stories, things that God has done for people in their lives and I'm left thinking, "That's great, when's my turn?" And THEN I remember that I'm pretty damn fortunate, to be where I am, with potential and a future and freedom and everything else, and so I feel guilty, and then retract all thoughts and, once more, revert to admiring Christianity like a valuable ornament, fucking hating myself for even challenging what's just been so all my life.

Even writing this is uncomfortable. I'm pathetic.

I go to church every Sunday because I like going. That's fine, isn't it? I'm allowed to enjoy the company and the atmosphere, aren't I? It's nice. Mum speaks well. The songs are nice. Even reading the Bible, even if I refuse to think of it long enough for any secondary meanings to come to me, it's nice, it's poetic, it's a good story. But it's like... argh. I want it to mean something to me. It's so, so frustrating. I want to believe! All those people whose lives have been touched by Jesus, they're not making it up, and I really want that! It's just... crushing. This is a part of me that I want to be prominent, that, at some point, detached itself from me and now the distance between faith and me grows more and more and I don't know what to do about it. 

From tomorrow to Thursday, I'm at Soul Survivor, a Christian youth/music festival based in Shepton Mallet, in Somerset. This will be my third year of attending. There's no denying it, even from an atheist perspective, it's impressive; fourteen thousand meeting from all over the world for this incredible, electric experience, and the previous two years I've really enjoyed it - though I'm aware that I enjoyed it mainly because it was essentially a residential knees-up. The first year, a knees-up with friends, new and old, and the second year with family and family friends and a load of strangers, so I couldn't be swayed by their opinions. This time, it's the same strangers, but they aren't strangers anymore - they're the people at school you kind of know, and your relationship hasn't progressed from the awkward eye contact stage yet - so, this year it's a muddy residential with half-acquaintences and my mum. It's just embarrassing. 
The next few days are probably going to go one of two ways. Either, it'll be the worst week of my life and I'll be put off the entire faith indefinitely, or it'll be great and I'll feel stupid for getting so het up about it. Obviously I want it to go well, but from where I am now, I just don't see it happening.
Pish. Moments like this I have a theological, sensible reason for my never being confirmed. But I never wanted it, despite having the opportunity on more than one occasion, for the very reason that, in the back of my mind, I knew I'd eventually have some kind of crisis like the one I'm having now. I know people who've jumped into confirmation and then, a year later, "changed their minds", and that's just fucking stupid, and defeating the purpose of ever being confirmed in the first place. It's a tender subject and now I am angry!

This song is so... relaxing. If I could have it playing in my mind on repeat for the rest of my life then doubtless I'd never worry.