Laura Smith Writer

Conversations with Agnostics

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God just happens. That is what I believe. But there are days when I get sucked into fear, and it becomes a drug. The terror of not knowing I will be ok, when I am not connected to God, shoots adrenaline through my veins. I believe that it can become addictive, this living in constant fear, ready to flee at a moments notice. Over the last 24 hours the fear has spiked, being down to my last 50$ until late September, I get pulled in by the fear, forgetting that at every other time in my life when this has happened, a lucrative job comes by my way or unexpected money is found lurking. It is easier to stay in that fear, feel the difference it makes in my physilogical body, than to turn it over to a God that cannot be seen or heard, or proven to exist. It is more challenging knowing that everything is as it should be, and that as long as I keep taking small actions today I will be ok. That sounds like madness when credit card companies start to call. But today, after 24 hours of fear I wrote a poem on the magnetic poetry message board that I share with my teenage son. I wrote:

When grace happens
Then slips away
Silent into
The waking night.

And fear creeps in
With claws of sand
And eyes that withdraw
All delight.

Does one run and hide?
Or show one’s face
To return to light
And return to grace.

He replied with a poem from an agnostic’s point of view. How could I know God exists if I cannot see or touch her? How could there be a God with so much pain and suffering in the world? The place in me that lives in fear asks that. How do I know that it will all turn out the way it should, that I will land on my feet yet again. I don’t, that is where I need to be, practicing faith. For five minutes I can sit with God, and know that I am connected, then for four I can sit with fear and wish to run. Then maybe I will try six with God. Over and over until I make progress. The answer to his agnostic point of view?

I breathe in God
with scent of roses
I feel God in sparkling grass
with dew on summer mornings.

God walks beside me
and brings me pleasure
It is I who choose
to be a conveyor of torture.

For my six minutes right now I choose to be a conveyor of peace. At this very moment I know that everything is as it should be. I am whole, happy, healthy and free.

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● About Me

I wrote and published my first blog post on May 26, 2009. I was about to turn 36 and had been accepted to Mount Holyoke College as a non-traditional student, on my way to completing a Bachelor of Arts in English with a minor in Medieval Studies. I had managed, finally, to know what general direction I was traveling. As a self proclaimed voracious reader I knew that I needed a vocation that would allow me to engage daily with words: reading words, writing words, and hearing words. I also needed to eat, so I navigated my way to a teaching position and I began to fine tune my craft. I love to teach and I love my students, but I also needed to continue to hone my own literary technique, voice, and style. I continued my education in order to delve deeper into literature, making connections, and most definitely, writing. I gained more confidence as a reader as well as a writer of both creative and analytical text. That first blog post in 2009 is short, the writing average, and the topic mundane, but as I continued to learn from other writers I began to understand that to become a better writer I needed to write more. Each time I write and release a poem, a post, or a story, I hone my skills. I invite you along for the ride, for this journey of mine as I attempt to wrangle a wealth of ideas and competing directions into an organized freshly paved path to publication. I might get distracted along the way, but sometimes those detours lead us to amazing views and new friends. 

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