I Read the Bible to Find Peace, But Found a God Who Might Not Care About My Kids

I used to think faith was a warm blanket. It was the thing that held me together when the world fell apart. But lately, that blanket feels like a noose.

I’ve been reading the Bible again. Not the watered-down, Sunday school version, but the real text. And I’m finding something that scares me. I’m finding that the God I’ve been praying to might not know me at all.

Read next摩门教女孩逃亡手记：主教通风报信、会长勒索十分之一、圣殿前夜才知誓词要「顺服丈夫」

Take Heaven, for example. The standard description is easy: you sit there, you praise God, you’re happy forever. But when I actually visualize it, it feels hollow. No hunger. No fatigue. No playing catch with my kids. No hiking. If I don’t need a body, do I have a self?

I am a mother of five. My entire identity is wrapped up in them. I remember the first time they took their first steps. I remember the fights, the laughter, the late-night worries. If I go to Heaven and I’m told that my love for them is irrelevant because they’re “disbelievers,” and I’m supposed to be “perfectly content” while they suffer... who am I, then?

It feels less like a reunion and more like a lobotomy. My earthly life becomes a preamble to a song I have to sing forever, with no one to sing it with.

Then I looked at the Old Testament, and the chills got colder. I read about Noah’s Ark. We focus on the animals, the boat, the rain. But what about the children? The babies who didn’t make it onto the boat? They didn’t do anything wrong. They were just... not chosen.

Or the plagues of Egypt. I can understand the anger at Pharaoh. He was stubborn. But the angel of death killing every firstborn male infant? That’s not justice. That’s a message. And it was sent to the babies.

And then there’s Abraham. God tells him to take his son to the mountain and kill him. To test his loyalty. And when Abraham raises the knife, God says, “Nah, I changed my mind.” It’s not a test of love. It’s a test of how far you’ll go before you question the voice in your head.

I’m not saying God is evil. I’m saying I’m not sure He’s personal. I’m not sure He’s *my* God. And that’s the crisis I’m living in. I’m trying to love a being who might see me as a temporary character in a story He’s already finished writing.

On our podcast, 神坛之下, we get into it into this exact tension. We ask: if eternity erases your past, does it erase your soul? And is a God who can sacrifice children for a point truly worthy of your faith? Tune in to find out where we land.