by Bola Essien-Nelson

Created on: March 19, 2010

I know deep in my heart that this life must be more than just what I see now. Sometimes I get panic attacks when I allow thoughts about how I am just on this planet like any other animal, any other rock, any other tree or grain of sand. Just existing for no real reason. I get these panic attacks because I am afraid that this life I am living really is 'it'. That there is no ryhme or reason to anything. That we will all just live and all just die. Just like that. But eventually, in a matter of minutes, my spirit takes over my thoughts and reassures me of the truth  I hold sacroscant in my heart. That I am not here 'just like that'. That I was put on this earth by a God who had a plan for me right from when he began to split the cells that would later be me in my mother's womb. My spirit begins to calm me down because it reminds me that I believe in God.

It's funny but I have always believed in God but never really believed. Does that make sense? Growing up, I was consious of this being that was bigger than everyone and lived in the sky. My Father is a Christian. My Mother was a moslem. We never went to church. We never said prayers five times a day either. On Christmas, we dressed up nicely and got presents under the christmas tree. When any of the moslem festivals came around, my mother would once again dress us up nicely to mark the day. It never bothered me. I did not question it. I thought it was normal actually. How do you miss something you have never known? So you see I knew God was a big deal and when ever I got in trouble I would pluck an eyelash and rub it in my hair and pray to this god to make my mom or dad forget and not punish me. So again, I knew to ask him for help. So this is why I say I believed in God but not really.

It all changed one day. I was close to turning 18 years old and my mother had just died. I had a four + baby sister and a 15 year old brother. I loved my sister to bits. I loved my brother too but we had our sibling issues. I also loved my father but he had his own issues. Oh, I knew he would try to take care of us the best he could and he did. But that night in my room as I tried to cry some more but could not. As I sat staring at my mother's coffin willing her to come out and chase all those people away. As I clutched to the Bible she, now converted to Christianity, had always kept close. I made a pact with God.

'You have taken my mom. If you are real and you want me to believe that you have not made a mistake with his.

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