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.

Hank Williams story reminds me I’ve always wanted to be a star
Trump supporter: Trump imposes crippling tariffs to get rid of tariffs
We all know fairy tales aren’t true, but maybe we need such illusions
If you made bad partner choice, it’s up to you to make a change
Without growth on similar paths, two people drift apart, love dies
Zimmerman verdict is correct, but there’s no cause for celebration
Let’s reconnect with each other, not fall into dystopian Metaverse
Why did we slowly let them strip our neighborhoods of most trees?
By end of Pooh movie, I wanted to stay in the Hundred-Acre Wood