Here is a journal entry from a couple years ago when I could not deal with rejecting Christianity. Ironically, it was when I was finally able to accept that I was not a Christian that I could look clearly at what I did believe. In turn I became a Christian again, albeit an entirely different Christian.
It is savage being a disciple of Yours - an uphill battle with no reward. I begrudgingly lift my foot to make each step. While there is no desire to continue I find that I cannot bear the thought of giving up.
I have yelled my way through difficult moves while climbing, but what about the times I yelled for no specific reason? The times when in solitude I belted at the top of my lungs? In retrospect, I wonder if I was simply yelling at You, Jesus. I wonder when I will yell again. Ultimately, I wonder if I'll ever have the courage to tell You that You are full of it. I admit that I started to the other day, only to be suddenly halted by an irrational concern for my life. Is it really fear that is holding me here?
This is ridiculous. I have experienced you in the most beautiful ways my imagination could conjure. Where and when did we go so far south? Of course You don't answer me. Well. I'll ask you again then. Why?! Why stick to your guns by staying silent when You know it risks losing a disciple?