There's a sort of "God's Not Dead" stereotype of an atheist who only rejected God because they're angry. They lost a family member, maybe, or they had a falling-out with the love of their life. They experienced emotional anguish and loss so painful, they felt God Himself had betrayed them.
That's a stereotype—I mean, I can't imagine all atheists in the world are like this. But I fit the stereotype myself. It happened very early, and it was reinforced by the atheism and anti-Christianity of my RL parents, but at some point that I can't exactly remember, my inchoate, unthinking, childish faith in a kindly Universe was shattered. I called out for God "and nobody came" (har har) and now I'm...this. Whatever this is.
This has been a tremendous obstacle to studying other religions. I've stubbornly worked on developing some kind of relationship with lesser gods. There, I feel, I don't need so much faith. I have spiritual experiences involving Óðinn, Athene, and other deities, so working with them feels almost practical. But the One God? The Creator? Overarching, all-encompassing deity? I still have big unsolved problems there, and memories of betrayal.
My friend and headmate, Hassan of the Serenity of the Nizari Isma'ili state (c. 12th century C.E.), who has gently urged me towards a better understanding of Islam, has had many frustrating interludes with me on this account. She seems to have an intuitive connection with Allah and doesn't struggle with faith as I do, but it's not a feeling that she can easily communicate to me. Are human beings, in generally, really born with an instinct to reach out for...well, not God per se, but some sense of intangible greatness? Some feeling that the Cosmos means well for us and looks out for us?
~Chara of Pnictogen
