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I wonder. Should I be envious of my fellow converts who know themselves to be rightly guided? Should I be envious of their fanaticism, which enables them to declare others heretics with such certainty? Should I wish for a faith like theirs?

Daily I rebuke myself for my sins. Daily I measure myself against truer believers, clothed in their righteous garb, and see how far I fall short. Constantly I question my own faith, and my sincerity, praying for guidance despite myself. And when, momentarily, that fleeting thought crosses my mind, suggesting for an instant that I am rightly guided, my inner voice quickly admonishes me: ‘Why would a sinner like you be blessed so?’

Sometimes, it is true, I am envious of the pious ones, with their self belief and constancy. But in truth: I despise the fanaticism which blinds us to possibilities beyond ourselves: to insist on the absolutely preposterous, in the face of all evidence, simply because we have convinced ourselves that it is part of faith. No, leave me to my agitated faith that might, one day, carry me home.