I grew up in a household that called themselves Christians but we never really went to church. I knew the very basic ideas about Jesus and what it meant to be a Christian, but I never felt comfortable talking about my beliefs because I didn't know exactly what they were. My family didn't talk much about God or religion unless someone was dying or people of other religions were doing crazy things. I was uneducated and confused about religion and didn't really have anyone around to ask the questions I was wondering.
In school, some of my friends talked about going to youth group or getting baptized, and I always stood silent. I felt ashamed for not regularly practicing my faith (I didn't exactly know what that faith even was). I felt judged when I told people that I didn't go to church or had never read a bible. These are things that real Christians did. Was I not a real Christian? I didn't really want to be anything different, but I didn't know how to be a Christian either. I never had family members that were dedicated to going to church or reading the bible. My great grandma taught us to say our prayers before bed which I'll never forget:
"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. (And I added in these next few lines myself) God, help my family and my friends. Keep me safe from harm. Leave the good dreams in and the bad dreams out. Let tomorrow be better than today. Thank you for my many blessings. In Jesus's name, Amen."
Other than my prayers at night, I only really prayed when I was really scared or when I found out someone was hurt, in trouble, or dying. I'm pretty sure the rest of my family prayed only during those times or when money was short, which was often.
As a child, religion was a very confusing and unfulfilling thing for me. As an adult, I still don't know exactly what I believe. I believe there is a greater power somewhere. I believe there is a reason for the world and our existence. I believe in destiny and I believe that some things are just out of our control. I was raised to believe in Heaven and in Hell but as I think more about this, I wonder if these terms were created to scare people. Or to give people something to look forward to if they lived a good life? I believe in these ideas enough that I'm afraid to not believe in them. What if Heaven and Hell do exist and I'm sent to Hell simply because I don't believe in them enough? What if this questioning blog post is revealing my doubts about religion and I'm damned for eternity because of it. I don't like feeling this way and it's unfortunate that there has to be so much pressure to have a religion, believe in it fully, practice it daily, recruit others, and know all the ins and outs of it. I don't know much about Christianity but I know much less about the other religions that exist in this world, so I feel that it's my most reasonable option.
Wow, where was I going with that? Basically, I don't have enough of a religious background to say that I have any food traditions that mean something to my family's religious history. I do, however, have many food traditions. We make deviled eggs for almost every major holiday. My sister and I argue about who will be making them each time and battle about whose turn out the best. My MawMaw makes her famous potato salad for all of our major family events. My mom makes some of the best cornbread dressing known to man and brings it to every Christmas and Thanksgiving feast.
That's about it. I love food and especially love celebrating with it during holidays or special occasions. I loved learning about how Lexie's family values food and thinks about it differently than I do each and everyday (like only being able to eat Kosher). They also have special food traditions for holidays. Maybe one day I'll be able to say I have those too, but for now, religion and food aren't really connected for me.
Thanks Courtney! I enjoyed giving the presentation and glad you enjoyed it as well.
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