A measure of acceptance, however small

For those that we have lost in the past, and for those that we are burying today, we must remember, there is a higher purpose. Heavenly father, grant us the strength, the wisdom, and above all, a measure of acceptance, however small.

I was watching The Majestic (yes, the 2001 Jim Carrey film) with the kids a bit this past weekend and realized that's another one of the films that I don't think I'll be able to watch again, not for a while. The character he plays is mistaken for someone from a town who didn't come back from World War II, and the film involves a plot arc that involves bringing hope back to a town.  I had to stop watching for a while because I was having a hell of a time trying to explain the historical setting for that film to my kids without losing it.

That's when I realized that I lost my faith a while back, and that giving anyone hope is about one of the last thing I want to do right now.

I'm not sure where this sustained malaise comes from, and why I can't seem to let it go, but the fact remains that it picks really goddamn inconvenient times to rear its ugly head.

And so, it is with some regret that I remember the Prayer to the Cloud of the Unknowing.  It's not from any real religion, and I'm still a diehard atheist, but it's been on my mind, a bit.  The reasons that bring it up have been on my mind a bit more.

I know cognitively it's not the same.  It's not the cognitive part that grinds away at me.

I don't miss my faith.  But I do miss my sense of hope.  A lot.