We left our church because we started questioning it.

And it was hard, because religions as a rule do not raise you to question, they raise you to believe.

However, I feel if you cannot find the answers you need, or if the answers you’re getting don’t ring true, then religion isn’t the answer anymore.

And it’s okay to leave when it’s your time. Take the good you received, and leave what no longer works behind.

Here you go, a neat little single-word package that holds my entire worldview, neatly cut into bite-sized pieces and packaged for your enjoyment. Eat them if you will, but here's my warning: some may taste sweet to you, but there are certain to be bitter ones in there, if you're the kind of person who expects a single word to cover everything I know.

Or if you'd rather, we could sit under a tree, and listen to the music of the wind in its leaves, and meditate on everything we know, and I might tell you what I think, what I believe. There's a lot to tell. We wouldn't get to all of it, but I could give you taste.

That's the kind of taste I like; not cut and packaged, but a selected sample of something delicious, a flavour to tilt your head in curiosity and leave you wondering, an idea so vague and colourful you know there's so much more.

Some people make a different kind of package, something more like a box. A wooden crate, beautifully painted, maybe, with many compartments. Filled with colours and ideas, but still, neatly packed. I have a box like that too, but mine is small and just a piece of the feast I have. It comes from my childhood, back when I was small, and all my ideas only needed a little box to fit in.

Some people expand their box, some people expand around their box. Both create lovely feasts. And then some people don't expand at all. They must have starving tastebuds, from all that blandness, but then, what do I know?

So I breathe in with a closed eye smile, inhaling the truth at the heart of every bite, shining from inside with the connections I find, building up my feast among the trees of my beliefs.

I'm always questioning, always full of faith. Who said they're mutually exclusive? They aren't.

And perhaps sometimes I'll slip away from one thing to another, but I wouldn't call it leaving; I still live in this experience of mine, seeing through my eyes; I'm just here, growing, always.

So I'll make you up a package if you need it, but my faith runs deeper than any set of flavours you could find.