Is God right for me?

I remember being a little girl sitting in a classroom and thinking "is this it? what is the point to life?"
I got to see many of my classmates have all these cool religions, with different holidays and events.
Then there was me, the little white girl that didn't know. I knew nothing much of God. I knew that my best friend and her family didn't believe in him.

 I knew that I was told to be a "good person" by my parents. Being a good person was standing up for what was right and facing your fears, much like David and the lion or norah and his arch. My mother would read me stories at night like David. David was one of my favorites because he over came hard troubles. He faced fears. I at the time was so frightened of my own fears. I wanted to be like him. I wanted to be strong when times got hard. 

Then there was the fact that my mother would always tell me that I was christened in the United Church of Canada. My mother would tell how she went to sunday school and so did my father.
I even remember finding her bible and looking at it, wondering why people fought over this book, why did people died for this book. What is so important about God?

Then I moved to Utah, where most people here are Mormon and know what they believe. They believe in God, that he knows how we should live life and how to become the best that we can be. I have always been so jealous of people who knew. They believe so much that they don't question the basics of God.

I always wanted something higher to believe in. Someone who I could turn to when life wasn't going my way. I do believe that everything happens for a reason. I just haven't had that "I love God" moment. I've had so many moments that I would have loved to have someone to turn too.

 The only time I've ever trusted God was when my grandmother had passed away. She believe, she would yell at me when I would say "Oh my God" and I would have to change it to "Oh my gosh". She would go to the small chapel by T Lake on the weekend when I was younger. I trusted that he would take care of her. I trusted that she was in a better place. That the hard part was over.

But sometimes when I'm left alone in my thoughts, I can't help but think "If your real, why is this wrong with me" or "Why did you let that happen? Why can't I be more like this" Can I really believe that there is something after this? I truly hope so because I can't bare the thought of letting people go.

I guess this has just been a "I want to know" day.