It’s Time

It’s time to move on– move on from the anger, the heartache, the uncertainty and the loss that comes from rejecting one’s belief in a god.  There was a time when I hoped for the day when I would come clean about my rejection of Christianity–be open and honest.  It seemed like a crazy fantasy, but that fantasy finally became a reality.   There also was a time when I hoped for understanding and reconciliation with my Christian family and friends.  That remains in the fantasy category.   Oh well, you can’t have everything.   For a while now, though,  I have found myself hoping for the day when I could be chill about the whole god thing, where a someone could bring up religion, god, Jesus, Christianity and I would just be like, whatever.  I didn’t think that could ever happen, but oh so very slowly and bit by tiny bit, I believe that that has become a reality for me in many ways.

Sometimes I feel like I wasted a lot of time trying to gain understanding, trying to get Christians to understand how destructive and ridiculous their beliefs are.   Whether the time was wasted or not, I can’t get it back, but what’s  done is done and I have no regrets.  I did what I needed to do to get through it.  Now, even when I try to get angry at Christians I can’t.  Where I once would get pissed off, now I find myself kind of shaking my head and saying, “Oh you silly Christians.”  There are things that matter, things that deserve the energy it takes to get angry, the Christian religion is just not one of those things.  It feels very healthy to me.

Anyway, I wanted to share the following video.  The first time I heard this song, it got me.  I won’t give a lot of commentary on it.  Let it speak to you in the way you need it to, but the first line just nailed how I felt when I could no longer believe, but was still going to church I yearned to “go to the hills where the outlines are clear.”   I’ve made it to the hills, the outlines are quite clear and I can again see the stars.  I feel like I’ve caught up to myself now, or at least very close to it.

Bring on the wonder–bring it on.

Hello Blog

hello_again

Working is a motherfucker.  It had been so long since I had a real job, I forgot just how time consuming it can be.  It’s weird, after being a stay-at-home-mom for so many years, to be back out in the working world.  The excitement of going to work every day and meeting new people and getting a paycheck has not worn off yet.  Maybe it never will; who knows? Sadly though, it keeps me from writing and I do miss that.  I woke up this morning at 4, with words spinning in my head, so I grabbed my laptop and started in.  It felt good–familiar.  Next stop, my good old Blinder’s Off Blog.  Hello friend.

So here I am and I’m really going to try and post more.  There’s so much I want to write about, but Christianity, church, religion–well, they never stop providing fodder for me.

There’s been a lot in the news about Mark Driscoll, the pastor of some Mars Hill in Seattle.  I do believe I “prophesied” this in one of my posts, but he’s going down in a blaze of glory.  It’s been difficult, because it brings up a bunch of painful memories for me, as it does with so many others as well.  What happened to Mars Hill is so reminiscent of what happened at my old church, although on a much smaller scale.  The narcissism of the leader, the toady elders, the shaming and silencing of the church members, is practically identical and that is what is especially painful to me, even to this day.

I think that I need to write about it.  I know, I’ve said that before, but now with so much being said about all the silencing that takes place within the church and the damage it causes, I feel now may be the time.

I do also have some more songs I want to post, so hopefully I can do that soon as well.  For now, google Mars Hill and Mark Driscoll and his alleged demise, but if you have experienced this type of situation personally, I recommend a big glass of wine first… or vodka. Stay tuned.

Shoot me down, but I won’t Fall

I was trying to decide which song I wanted to post first and decided on this one.  I prefer the EDM version, but for this post, I think this video is better. It’s not really on the unrequited love theme, but definitely love lost—friend and family love.

Listening to this song made me think of all the friends I’d lost and how my mother and sister treated me.  In my early posts I wrote of  the suffering I went through from the loss. At times it was almost unbearable. I ran and hid. I was always on the offensive and always feeling like I had to be the one to mend those relationships, because I was the bad one—the one who no longer believed.

Of course, at some point I realized that it didn’t matter what I did, I was no longer a Christian and so I no longer had a place at the table—figuratively and literally.  They were done with me, but not before they did their “Christian duty.” I love the one line in the song: “Stone hard, machine gun, firing at the ones who run, stone-hard as bulletproof glass.”  They do fire at the ones who run, don’t they?  Thankfully, I kept running–in a zigzag pattern, of course, as to survive.

Most importantly the song continues to remind me of just how far I’ve come.  I’m stronger now—Titanium.  Those people can’t hurt me anymore.  They may pity me, but they are the ones who should be pitied.  They are the ones who now no longer have a place at my table and you know what?  It’s their loss.

I’m bullet proof, nothing to lose.

 

The Truth About Love

love-2I’ve been thinking a lot about 1 Corinthians 13.  People, not  always Christians, use this part of scripture as a reading for weddings and other events, regularly. When I heard it the other day, I realized how profound it is, and of all the scripture I have read, 1 Corinthians 13 is actually something I can hold onto as a guideline for my life:

“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.  If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.  If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails…And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

Interestingly, these principles are the ones I have rarely seen in the Christians in my life, especially the ones that are closest to me. There have been a couple of times where I confronted my sister with these scriptures and let her know that when she says she loves me, but continues to be cruel and rejecting, she isn’t living out 1 Corinthians 13, which is part of her holy book.  Her response to me has always been the same; “I do love you, I just can’t be around you, or I don’t trust you, or I have a wall up between me and you,” etc., etc. Well, what is love then?  The apostle Paul seems to make it clear.  Maybe in “the original language” it means something entirely different.

I decided to look up the definition of love and here is a synopsis:  “Profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person, a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection; to take great pleasure in as for a parent, child, or friend.”

Most hard core Christians, my sister and mother included, do not exhibit any of the aspects of 1 Corinthians 13 love, at least not to me.  I’m not sure why.  It’s like the more you study the scriptures and the closer you get to god, the meaner, more judgmental, and more hateful you become.  I saw it in myself and I’ve seen it in my sister.  In fact, seeing it happen to my sister caused me to take a good hard look at myself.  I have to admit it’s easier to exhibit 1 Corinthians 13 love as a secular humanist than it ever was as a Christian. I wonder why that is?  The apostle says that it doesn’t matter whether you have knowledge, or have faith; if you lack love, you are nothing and yet, many Christians are great at attaining knowledge and going on and on about their faith, yet love, real love, is rarely seen.  At least I have not encountered it.

It’s as if knowing and speaking the laws of God, or trotting out the faith card are more important than simply loving.  It’s all so pharisaical and you know what Jesus had to say about them?  Let me paraphrase; they were gross.

Emptier Words…Part 2

I'll Pray for You

Yesterday, I talked about how shallow the words “I love you” can be and how evident that shallow love is in the Christian Church.  Today, I want to concentrate on more empty words: “I will be, I have been, or I am, praying for you.  Now, I realize that some people actually do pray for people after they say those words, (I’ll set aside the reality that prayer doesn’t work) but I have found that most church-going Christians say, “I am praying for you,” and then first, never do, and second, do nothing tangible for the person they are “praying” for, simply because they have already done their part by “praying.”  In my experience, it’s a lot like, “I love you,” in the sense that, like I love you, they think by saying “I’m praying for you,” their work is done.    I could give you many, many examples, but I’ll just mention a few, because those who have been in the Christian world know what I say is sadly true.  Heck, I did it myself and had many Christian friends admit the same. Even if we did pray about it, that would usually be as far as it went.  We had done our part, right?

I’m sure that’s what my sister was thinking when she sent me a scathing letter, basically ripping me to shreds and then telling me she loved me and was praying for me.  I guess that was a double whammy of empty words!  Did she call me and ask me to go have lunch or just hang out, or if I needed anything?  No, she turned her back on me—wouldn’t even have me in her home–but I took comfort in the idea that she loved me and was praying for me—right.

When my son was in the ICU, suffering from a brain injury, I sat there, for the most part, alone.  When, after having no sleep for two days, I stopped by the school to let the principle (a devout Christian, by the way) know how he was doing.  Granted, he hadn’t called to ask, but I thought he would want to know.  Finally, he took time to talk with me, and after I told him how things were going, he said, “Well, I’ve been praying for him.”  Exhausted, I looked at him, and although I didn’t say anything, I remember thinking, “So that’s what empty words feel like.”  I said, “Thank you,” and wanted to vomit.

During that time, after growing weary of “I’m praying for you” comments on my facebook, I posted a quote there: Praying is like a rocking chair – it’ll give you something to do, but it won’t get you anywhere.”  You would have thought I had posted that I liked cooking babies and eating them for dinner.  The point of the post was to let my Christian friends and family know that we needed more than their words, but they couldn’t hear me; they were too offended.  The attacks from Christians, during that trying and scary time, were shocking.  My own nephews publically attacked me—saying really hurtful and untrue things to me. It’s still hard to think about, even today.  In some ways I think all the defensiveness posted there was born out of guilt, but I also think they didn’t know what to do when their shallow words weren’t comforting to us.  Maybe they were nervous that they might have to do something outside of their comfort zone and, of course, Jesus would never endorse such a thing.  Sadly, for the Christian, it was my non-Christian friends that cooked dinner for us and cared for us and I will never forget that.  And people wonder why I want nothing to do with the Christian community.

My final example happened just a few months ago.  I had stopped by my apartment manager’s office (again, another devout Christian) and somehow it came up that my son is permanently disabled by his accident (he has no sense of smell or taste). I told her that we are hoping that medical technology will come up with a way to stimulate the damaged nerves so that they can grow back.  She smiled and said, “I’m going to pray for him.  I believe god can heal him.  …What’s his name again?”  There was so much I wanted to say: “You mean you need to know his name otherwise god won’t know who you are talking about, or do you need to know his name so that you can share the request at prayer group so god will know who they are talking about?”  I thought about saying, “Oh, I never thought of doing that, I’ll tell his neurologist.  He’ll be so relieved, so will my son. Oh, happy day!”  I didn’t say any of those things though.  I did what most non-believers do when faced with shallow religious ignorance.  I said “Thank you,” and walked out, fairly certain she would not pray or even remember my son’s name, for that matter. Some might wonder what I would have wanted her to say.  I have thought about that.  I guess it would have felt good to hear her say, “Oh I’m so sorry. That must be difficult.  I hope he will be okay. Is there anything I can do for him?”  Maybe that’s just too intimate for the Christian to say—too real.

So FYI dear Christian, when you say, “I’m praying for you,” to a non-believer, we hear “I’m going to go talk to myself about that later.”  We want to see and feel care, not hear it.  We’re kind of evidence based.  We’re weird like that.

Emptier Words…

Christian loveAfter a recent encounter with my mother, I got to thinking about how shallow words can be and just how prevalent that shallowness is in the Christian church, where love, true love, is supposed to abound.  Here are two examples that came to mind: 1) I love you, and 2) I am, or have been, praying for you.  Today, I want to focus on the first one: “I love you,” Now, back to my mother.

When I first started this post, I found myself going into every sordid detail of the past two years involving my relationship with my mother.  I suppose it was cathartic, and in some ways I wanted others to understand just how horrible her behavior has been, but no one else needs to read all that.  So let’s just say she would tell me that she loved me “unconditionally,” but then act as if she wished I did not exist. To date, she has no idea why I gave up Christianity and she has no idea why my marriage of 24 years ended.  She claims to not understand the changes that have taken place in my life, but continues to refuse to discuss them with me and continues to basically ignore me; yet, she contends that she loves me “unconditionally.”  Maybe it’s just me, but isn’t that something you say to someone who has done something really horrible and you want to let them know that in spite of that, you love them? Otherwise, why would you feel the need to add the “unconditional” caveat?

Anyway, we are officially “estranged.” Our last conversation ended with my mother saying, “I love you and always will,” (At least she didn’t say “unconditionally” this time) to which I responded,  “Emptier words have never been spoken to me mom.”  She countered:  “So be it.”  Now, if one of my daughters had said something like that to me, I would have been devastated and done everything in my power to make things right.  Not my mom, my Jesus loving mom.  I picture her saying “So be it,” and then skipping off,  tra la la la la.  She had done her duty as a Christian mother.  ~The End.

Over the past few years, I can’t tell you how many Christians have told me they love me; this would include my sister, as well as my mother.  In spite of all this “love,” they have been absolutely absent from my life.  Well to be fair, they did show up occasionally, usually to crush my fingers as I clutched weakly to the edge of the emotional abyss, but mostly they were absent.

The thing about Christians is they think that by merely saying they love someone, they have done all they need to do.   This has not been my experience alone; it is wide spread. I saw it in my daughter’s youth group.  They would tell her they loved her, but when she was struggling and needing love the most, all she had was words.  They couldn’t be bothered with any awkward problems.  They needed to plan the next trip to Mexico, or make their next promotional video.  The sad thing about that is these youth leaders are teaching the young people to do the same thing—how to give Christian lip service.  They model the very idea that saying I love you is enough, nothing more needs to be done, and they wonder why young people are leaving The Church in droves.  I used to see the same thing on Sunday mornings in the worship service, during the “meet and greet” time—words of love were everywhere.  There was no love, just words—empty, empty words.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not saying that Christians are incapable of love.  They love, but most of the people they express love to, they couldn’t care less about.

Love should be an act, not a word.  As a non-believer, that is the way I want to live my life.  My daughter recently said to me, “Mom, if you never told me you loved me again, because of the way you love me, I would still know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you did–more than anything.”

That, my friends, is love.

Footprints

footprints 2Wow, I haven’t been here for a while.  Not even a 30-Day-Challenge could keep me honest.  You wait though, because I am going to blog 30 in a row.  I really am!   Anyway, I just got back from a few days in Laguna Beach.  It was an incredible time I have to say.  I didn’t realize, until I was there, just how badly I needed a beach fix.  I did gain some insights while I was there and I will share them with you in the next couple of blogs.

The first one hit me as I was walking alone on the beach.  As I looked back and saw the long trail of footprints I left behind, it called to mind that poem.  You know the one, “Footprints.”  It’s where “The Lord” tells the poet that when there was only one set of footprints in the sand,  He (god) was carrying them through their most challenging times.  As I considered my own lone footprints, I thought, “That is such bullshit.”  I also thought about how I would revise that “poem” if I could.  I decided that the only thing that needed revising was the last few lines.  Here is the poem with its revisions:

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
 Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky. In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. 
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints; 
other times there were one set of footprints. This bothered me because I noticed
 that during the low periods of my life,
 when I was suffering from
  anguish, sorrow or defeat, 
I could see only one set of footprints. So I said to the Lord, 
”You promised me Lord,
 that if I followed you,
 you would walk with me always.
 But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
 there have only been one set of footprints in the sand.
 Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?”

The Lord replied, 
‘The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand, 
that is when you realized I was never there; I was a figment of your imagination and it was you and only you who stood strong and persevered on your own.  It was your resilience and strength that carried you through. You thought you needed someone bigger and more powerful outside of yourself, but you didn’t.  There was only you.”

Many find comfort in the old version of that poem.  I do not.  It is much more comforting and also empowering to know that we are all we need. We are enough.

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