The Power of Belief

I heard a knock on my door.

Two women stood politely in front of me. One spoke, and the other observed quietly—somewhat distant. I could understand why, after they introduced themselves as missionaries and asked if I belonged to a church or if I was interested in joining one.

I told them that my home was my church—without fully taking in the moment.

She smiled and told me I had a beautiful home, and that I myself was beautiful.

I thanked her, told her she was as well, and reminded them to stay hydrated—it was hot that day. I wished them well as they headed toward my neighbor’s house.

In hindsight, I would’ve handled that moment differently.

I acknowledged to myself how I had unconsciously closed off to the idea of having a conversation about religion and my personal views. I tried to tell myself it was because they knocked in the middle of lunch—but I know better than to take my surface-level excuses as truth.

I realized I had just missed an opportunity I’d been actively telling myself I was ready for.

I had brushed past a chance to connect.

The truth is, I would have loved to hear what they’d likely been preparing to share all day—and to speak of the beliefs that guide me, even if they don’t fit inside doctrine.

I thought to myself:

How beautiful it must feel to speak to people in the name of something you believe in.

And then it struck me: I’ve never really done that.

Not out loud.

Not entirely.

Well, maybe to Sydnie. Hey girl, thank you for holding space for me always💜

I’m naturally more nuanced than to share freely unless there’s an invitation—yet a past belief I held prevented me from accepting this one.

Perhaps because my belief isn’t fixed, per se—but ever expanding.

Perhaps because I fear being ridiculed or entering into dicey waters.

Either way, my beliefs move and evolve. They invite listening—sometimes even after the moment has passed. Usually more if I’m honest. They shift with each layer I encounter.

They’re built from a broad foundation that I’ve lovingly accepted will never be fully formed, but is held sturdy by what I’ve come to know as truth.

So today, I want to begin where I am.

With what I know.

With what I’ve seen, what I’ve unlearned, and what I’ve come to understand about the power of belief—

Both in its ability to liberate, and in how it’s been used to control.

And in this moment I’ve shared, how it held me in a container I’ve been slowly climbing out of.

This isn’t to shred apart religion.

It’s not even a rejection of it.

It’s an invitation to explore how belief shapes us—and how the sacred can exist with or without a Bible.

The Echo Beneath Every Religion

Strip the names, rituals, and languages away, and most spiritual—or if you prefer, religious—frameworks tell us this:

• There is a force greater than us.

• We are either separate from it, or born of it.

• There are ways to align with this force—through love, obedience, awareness, or purification.

• We must move through a journey of transformation—from ignorance to wisdom, ego to soul, sin to salvation, or forgetfulness to remembrance.

Whether you call that force God, Allah, Source, the Tao, the Universe, or the Great Spirit—it’s the same desire:

To feel connected.

To know that we are part of something meaningful.

To make sense of our suffering.

To remember that we are not alone.

Here’s Where the Frameworks Begin to Get… Rickety for Me

The differences between religions are not in their core beliefs—they lie in how that belief is structured.

This is where the human fingerprints begin to show.

And by fingerprints, I mean our inherent corruption.

And hey, I have it too.

Macro to micro, it exists in this world for a reason.

I believe that reason is to find balance within it.

What follows isn’t a critique of faith.

It’s a look at how belief has often been shaped to serve control, power, and hierarchy

Not personal connection or divine embodiment.

1. Mediation vs. Direct Access

Mystics in nearly every tradition (Sufis, Gnostics, Kabbalists, early Christians, Yogis) taught that God is within.

But institutional religion often teaches that God must be reached through someone else—a priest, prophet, or ritual. It’s just out of reach for the average person, which creates the need for a system.

This isn’t inherently wrong—guides can be helpful.

But it often created dependency, not connection. I’ve witnessed this firsthand.

It taught people to distrust their own divine spark and replaced wholeness with obedience.

And we all know what else that kind of structure can house.

I’m not just speaking on Catholicism...

God can be found anywhere—from a church to a leaf, a bar to a funeral home.

A fresh earthly salad to the taste of a corndog.

God is everywhere…

So why wouldn’t God also be within?

2. Fear-Based Compliance

Many religious systems operate on a punishment-reward structure:

• Heaven or Hell as physical destinations (rather than mental states)

• Karma as debt or reward

• Blessings or curses

• Worthiness tied to suffering: Suffer now for eternal redemption.

This keeps people in line—but not in relationship.

It’s not of God, but with God’s name.

It turns belief into bargaining:

“If I follow the rules, God will love me.”

“If I mess up, I’ll be punished.”

That’s not divine love.

That’s the projection of each system’s preference onto the infinite and almighty.

3. Gendered Divinity

Most major religions reflect a masculine-leaning image of God: father, king, judge, ruler.

The feminine is often:

• Submissive (Mary)

• Demonized (Lilith, Eve)

• Erased altogether

This doesn’t reflect spiritual truth—it reflects the patriarchal values of the time.

Ancient traditions once honored the sacred feminine—as life-giver, destroyer, intuition, and flow.

But these were removed or buried to reinforce male-dominated, linear power structures.

4. Control Through Narrative

Who writes the scripture?

Who interprets it?

Who is allowed to question it?

Religious texts have been translated, edited, and politicized over centuries.

Passages have been used to justify:

• Colonization

• Slavery

• Homophobia

• War

• The suppression of women

The issue isn’t always the original message.

It’s how that message has been framed and weaponized to benefit institutions—not humanity.

5. Outsourcing God

When God is framed as a being outside of us—watching, judging, rewarding, or punishing—we begin to chase approval instead of embodying divinity.

God’s judgment is then relayed through the patriarchal diplomat or “priest.”

One begins to believe:

• We are broken by default.

• We must earn our worth.

• We must silence our inner knowing to receive external salvation.

This serves the religious systems beautifully.

But it can also crush a soul.

Accepting our flaws is a harder task when met with external shame.

The Sacred Truth That Remains

Despite all of this…

Religion still holds people.

Many people have found profound peace, community, and meaning inside traditional frameworks.

There is beauty in reverence.

There is power in devotion.

There is healing in shared ritual.

There is belonging in community.

Here’s my take:

Those things are not only owned by religion.

They are born from the power of belief itself.

Belief is the bridge between thought and trust.

Between what we hope for and how we live in alignment with that hope.

It’s the space where faith (a feminine trait) becomes form (a masculine trait).

Can you see the dance?

So while I may not speak from a pulpit,

And while my church may look more like my home, my writing, my children, my marriage, and the sky outside my window…

I still believe.

I honor.

I connect with God.

I speak with God—and I believe God speaks directly back to me, as long as I have eyes to see and ears to hear.

It’s not something I feel the need to scream from rooftops.

And I’m at peace with that—because it brings me peace.

For years, I painted a scarlet letter on anyone who conformed to religion—not out of hate, but out of lack of understanding.

Once I found God in all things, I began to see how others find God in systems.

Regardless of your views or beliefs, I wish you peace, too.

It’s not my concern how you cultivate it—only that you find your way to it.

Preferably without harming others.

And ideally, with the Earth in mind.

It is of God itself, wouldn’t you say?