I’ve often said that when it comes to faith and religion, I sometimes feel like I’m broken, or missing some essential part that others have.

One side of my family has a very strong sense of faith and devotion, and that has helped them through difficult times, as well as being part of general celebrations. (Perhaps to clarify, God isn’t just someone you turn to when you need help, but also someone you remember when things are going well.) Her faith was the most important thing in my grandmother’s life, along with her family.

The other side of my family, well, it’s never been discussed, but to the best of my knowledge, there wasn’t much in the way of church going. (I don’t ever remember my other grandparents going to church, or talking about god and faith.)

And then there’s me.

I was raised Catholic, went to CCD classes, went to mass every week and all the holidays, was in the choir, and got all the sacraments the way a Catholic girls is supposed to.

But at my Freshman year in college (at a Catholic university) I realized there was something missing from me. I didn’t seem to feel what others felt. Going to church was a boring chore I did because it was expected of me, not because I felt anything while there.

After college, before I got married, I tried to go back for awhile, but instead of feeling peace and calm and faith, I’d instead see people I knew to have done Bad Things, standing up and acting like role models. Instead of being inspired, I’d feel a sick anger, and think, “you harmed a child–what right do you have to stand there and act as an example to anyone?”

I’d end up leaving feeling worse than when I went.

Don’t get me wrong, there are many wonderful and amazing and inspiring people who went to my church–but they didn’t offset the emptiness I felt when everyone else seemed to be filled with the holy spirit and love and everything else.

So I stopped going.

I’d go with my grandmother, solely to make her happy, but I still didn’t feel anything, so at this point, the only times I go to church are for weddings and funerals.

This is why I read with fascination, a study about twins and faith:
What Twins Reveal About The Science Of Faith.

It’s not just me. Maybe there is something missing from my genetic make-up that makes me this way.

Funny thing is, I don’t know if this makes me feel better, or worse.