What caused you to begin questioning the existence of god or the beliefs of the religion you were brought up in?
There wasnt a cause just me and god didnt ever connect, my parents were atheists as was my wider family - I learned to read at a very early age and that was all I needed.
I always thought there was something wrong with me. I felt no connection to God either. I thought I might be a bad seed, or God didn't love me because of my sexual feelings.
I knew the Bible was twisted from an early age, but still wondered where people "got their God from."
I had heard of spiritual experiences, being filled with the spirit and being magically reborn. I wanted it, but it wouldn't come to me. I just never got "zapped" by God, like many others had.
I was going through a depression and I thought more faith would get me through it. I watched a debate with the late and great Christopher Hitchens. I sought ways to affirm my faith, but Hitchens’ arguments prompted me to put my faith under scrutiny. It didn’t hold up. Ditching my belief in a god was the start of my swift recovery, and my life has been wonderful ever since.
I started thinking. I was told that God was a good god, that he was merciful, that he forgave unconditionaly and all that. So, why all those death for those who didn't believe? If His love is without condition, why are there condition to get to Heaven? If he forgives, Why does Hell exists? And then: Nothing happens without God's will. So all the torture, the wars, famine... that is all God's will? That is when I woke up.
That can all be explained to you by Christians who can talk out of both sides of their mouths.
The fact that it doesn't make any sense and never has to me.
My family were Baptist, Pentecost and Methodist. When I was growing up, God was a fact of life, like eating, breathing, blue sky and green grass. It wasn't questioned, it wasn't discussed. I never had a bad experience. I just didn't believe it. When I was little, it was just a small, nagging doubt, deep down in my psyche. It took me growing up and reading, studying, thinking, pondering, and finally, admitting to what I knew was true.
At around 5 years old, I saw a picture of Jesus that was obviously aimed towards children. It was an image of Jesus smiling and sitting with a bunch of happy children around him. I found this rather strange, because as a child, I felt that there would be lots of much better things to do than to hang around this bearded stranger. I mean, why are all these kids hanging around this adult when they could be playing games or riding bikes or something? I mean, let's be real here! And we'd learn songs like "Jesus loves the little children," but when's the last time Jesus played dodgeball with us? Jesus loves us? Yeah, right.
"Suffer the little children who come unto me"
Sounds like child abuse to me...
I always questioned the existence of god to some degree. Watching my mother wither away to nothing from cancer pretty much sealed the deal though.