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.

Slow death of painful past leaves me trapped in fog of depression
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Why are U.S. troops going into Uganda to take sides in a civil war?
In an age when lies are expected, integrity matters more than ever
When voters insist on lies, politicians follow their incentives and lie
Each experience of beauty and love stands alone, different from the rest
Learning to love and accept yourself can be your first step toward healing
Personal growth feeds a romance, but lack of honesty destroys love