Faith in Real Life: It’s Okay Just to Believe In God
Welcome back to Faith in Real Life, my spirituality blog series where I explore what it means to believe—outside the boxes of organized religion. This journey has been anything but straightforward, and today I want to share a piece of that adventure with you.
This series was born from a single, powerful realization: it’s okay just to believe in God. I had been trying to squeeze myself into religious molds that never truly fit. But belief doesn’t need a box.
And honestly? I felt called to include this series because spirituality is one of the wedges on the Wheel of Wellbeing.When I work with clients, I ask them to rate each wedge on a scale from 0–10. It’s eye-opening. Right now, I’d put my own spirituality at a 5—much stronger than a year ago, but still very much evolving.
Raised Catholic
Let’s rewind. I was raised Catholic—church every Sunday, followed by dinner at Grandma’s. We never missed a service. I made it through First Communion and most of my Confirmation classes, but then I hit a wall. I started questioning a lot—not just the Church scandals, but the teachings themselves.
One moment stands out: it was election season and our priest said from the pulpit, “I think we all know who we’re voting for.” So much for separation of church and state.
At the same time, I was going through an abusive high school relationship and wondering why any loving God would let me suffer like that. (Now, I see how that experience shaped me—but that’s a story for another day.)
Eventually, I made a decision that shocked my mom and grandma: I dropped out of Confirmation. I told them it didn’t feel right and I didn’t want to go through the motions. Teenage Jessica honoring her autonomy? Heck yes. But I also made them cry. I think they worried I was damning myself.
Sorry, Mom… Sorry, Grandma… I never meant to make you cry… but tonight… I’m droppin’ out of Confirmation.
Self-Proclaimed Atheist (Sort Of)
After that, I identified as an atheist—well, not openly to my family, but in my own mind. I rejected religion and saw belief as silly. A man in the sky? Fairy tales? I argued with my aunt once about Noah’s Ark. I wasn’t having it.
Still…there was always something spiritual in me. I believed in energy, manifestation, the universe. So maybe I wasn’t a true atheist—maybe more agnostic, with a crunchy spiritual streak.
Enter the Christians (Said with Love)
Flash forward: I joined a doula certification cohort and ended up in a group full of Christian women. These ladies were grounded, loving, full of faith—and totally nonjudgmental when I told them I wasn’t Christian. They didn’t try to convert me. They just lived their faith.
At times, I felt awkward and out of place, especially when they talked about how God was guiding them. But I stayed. And their faith? It started to stick with me.
The Turning Point
Then came my first Shabbat service. I sat in a synagogue, listening to Hebrew, surrounded by song and tradition, joy and reverence—and I felt something I hadn’t felt in years: a connection. A closeness to God.
That moment cracked me open. I realized I might’ve been wrong about God. Maybe the universe I believed in was God all along.
The warmth, the community, the welcome—it felt more like home than any Catholic church ever had. My children and I, despite not being Jewish by law, were embraced.
I started reading Torah. I considered converting. But…I kept dragging my feet.
Watching Asher become a bar mitzvah filled me with pride and joy—but more than that, I felt God with us in that synagogue. That moment deepened my connection to faith and strengthened my desire to convert.
But Something Didn’t Feel Right
Was it because I didn’t want to give up my Christmas tree? Maybe. But really, it was deeper.
I don’t fit into religious boxes. I love the Ten Commandments (solid life advice), but the 600+ other rules of Judaism? Not so much. And let’s be real—no one follows them all perfectly.
I began to understand: the God I believe in doesn’t need me to follow every rule to love me.
The Full-Circle Moment
Then came a moment that tied everything together. I was having a rough day. I felt messy and low. A friend texted me a coaching question, which sparked a blog idea. That got me working on my business—something I hadn’t done in a while.
Then I went to teach gymnastics. And guess what? Three girls in my class were babies I had cared for years ago when I was an infant teacher.
That was my sign. “You are where you are supposed to be, my child.” God had been guiding me all along.
Then I Realized…
On the drive home, I was crying again—but this time with gratitude. That moment was a message from God.
And I realized: my relationship with God isn’t in a church or synagogue. I don’t need to convert to feel connected. I don’t need to check boxes to be guided.
I just have to listen. Open my heart. Accept that God’s path for me might be messy, swearing-filled (sorry God, You made me this way), and beautiful in its imperfection.
Did This Hit Home?
Did this story strike a chord? I promise not every post in this series will be me rambling about my life—but if you want to follow along, make sure you’re subscribed to my newsletter to get updates on new posts in Faith in Real Life.
This is what faith looks like for me now—joyful, grounded, and guided by love. Just me and my babies, walking the path God laid before us.
XOXO,
Jessica
Still swearing. Still learning. Still loved by God.