on "folk religion"

Last night I read a great article on "folk religion": popular religious beliefs absorbed uncritically by the masses and often in complete contradiction to the religion's tradition and sacred writings. The poignant example: "God has a plan for your life," and its corollary, "And if you don't follow it, your life will be in shambles." It's scripturally unfounded, and I know this well enough (I've toyed with the idea of writing a book on the subject), but reading the article made me see that I continue to put stock in it. I interpret my current state-of-affairs only in comparison to what I WANTED my life to look like: "I'm not a pastor, I don't have the blessing of a wife and kids, therefore my life has gone off track." Had I been more devoted (i.e. "good enough") then I would be in ministry and I would have a family. 

Life's major disappointments turn into double-edged swords: not only must I deal with the disappointment, I must also face the fact that it's MY FAULT: I wasn't good enough. Everything gets filtered through the lens of my failures and shortcomings, and I start thinking that what I'm experiencing (or, rather, the absence of experiencing what I want) is the revoking of God's promises, the ultimate destroyer of hope: "I can't have hope, because I'm not good enough to warrant God's blessings." Any attempt to move forward is shadowed by a past of failure, and every setback turns into a manifestation of God's unending displeasure towards me. And the best part is, it gets even more fucked up: interpreting my life in such a manner blinds me to the gifts and blessings all around me, blessings too numerous to count. I fail to see the beauty and adventure and love all around me. Even more, interpreting my life as the direct result of "not being good enough" has made any introspection stained with a dose of self-hatred. I so easily see myself as an awful, beyond hope and beyond help sort of person. Never mind there's nothing too interesting on my rap sheet, and I'm generally known as a loving, albeit weird, person. 

The point of all this is simple: this folk religion, this sentimental belief tied with the rigors of religion, has poisoned me. The implications of such a conviction stretches into every aspect of my faith, bleeding into my faith in and devotion to God. Behind the fears, behind the doubts, lies a heart frightened to trust God because he's unsure of whether God can be trusted. It isn't that God has given me lots of reasons to NOT trust him, but that I've interpreted all of life's twists and turns in light of my inability to perfectly please God and God punishing me for it by taking me from my greatest dream: my own cherished family. St. Paul says our minds must be renewed, and perhaps none more than mine.