Dear Hearts,
I am so anxious tonight. For about an hour I’ve been have a low level episode. I am just twitching. I can cross stitch---it’s more like shaking.
A few things I wanna get off my 32 D’s.
I am scared. This is really happening. I am really moving out here.
G-Pa. Ahem. No, I don’t want to get rid of my “stuff,” because my stuff isn’t junk. So no I am not going to fucking auction off things in my house. Yes, there are quite a few hand-me-downs. Should I the auction with Nan’s 100 year plus desk? How about the table Pop made with real deer legs? Oh I know! The brand new couch! Or the computer table I’ve had since I was ten. Non-negotiable, Mom. Or how about the dresser that’s been in the family for generations? Or the huge, rare metal teachers’ desk? Or maybe the not-cheap incredibly comfortable recliner that is big enough for a 5 foot plus person? Or maybe the hutch Mom and Dad bought me for my birthday after I filed for divorce? No fucking auction.
And, I love you. But there is no fucking way I am going to the next Club meeting and eating fried chicken in a park. You always complain about the food any way.
And fuck you, Burning Bed. If I want a fucking tattoo on my shoulder I will get it and cover it. I have played by the professional rules all my fucking life! Where did it get me? Shaking. Disability. Depression. Fuck the rules. I will get a tattoo wherever the FUCK I want!
And on more esteemed note, some asked me who God was to me.
My answer:
God.
God is love. I HATE THAT SAYING. It’s true but it’s so fucking cliche.
God is the ultimate Goodness.
I don’t understand how God exists. In my honest moments I would say that I believe that God (something way beyond us) has a plan. He is intercessory. He does not punish or test you. I don’t know why I have the blessings I do and children in Syria are dying. What drew me to Catholicism was Mother Mary. As a Pagan I prayed to the Goddess. It was so natural for me to relate to a female deity. Mother Mary is not (technically a deity and most Catholics would disagree with me emphatically) but basically we prayer to Mary and the Saints.
Mother Mary, the Saints, Christ—they put a face to this unfathomable force I call God. It took me a long time to accept Christ as my personal savior. I was fine with Mother Mary and miracles. But, what kind of God would crucify his own son?
Great God, but what a shitty dad.
My mom’s Methodist preacher explained it this way—whether you take the crucifixion literally or not: When Christ was crucified God was like “Do your worst to me, throw all the evil you got at me and Good will still prevail.” Then it made sense.
God fills the places in between. What I believe—and it does evolve each day—feels right and just in my heart. God brings me comfort and gives me a reason to live.
God doesn’t need us to worship him. He is fucking omnipotent and omniscient. We need God. Or at least I do.
An atheist would call it a coincidence but one example:
My ex-husband bought me this used Durango truck and it was too big and I didn’t know how to drive it properly. (And I can drive big ass trucks.) But this thing was a piece of shit. And I was afraid to ask my ex how to put the thing in 4-wheel-drive. That’s why he’s my ex in part. I got tired of being afraid that I would get in trouble.
Anyway. I never wore my seat belt in that truck. I usually do—but not in that truck. I was driving to school (teacher) on an October day when the first snow had made things just slippery enough. As I went around a turn (not speeding), I thought if I slide out this truck will tip over. The next thing I knew I was closing my eyes and headed toward the trees. The truck ended up on is driver’s side. Because I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, I was able to quickly right myself so I was like squatting on the driver’s side window. This is way before smart phones. And I was in a dead zone anyway. But, my phone worked that day. It was a really old phone—not even 911 GPS compatible. By all rights I should not have been able to make a call. But, I did. I called 911. I was trapped in the truck and terrified. When an officer got me out I had 3 small cuts from the glass. One on my palm, one on my chin, and another on my forehead. I did not hit my head or lose consciousness. I was FINE. The truck was totalled and my ex ANGRY. But, I was okay. My cell phone never worked again after that 911 call. Calling 911 like burned it up or something. That was God.
The little voice in me saying—don’t wear a seatbelt and you’re gonna tip.
(I am not anti-seatbelts. My mother is alive because of one. But I think would have been more seriously injured if I’d been wearing a seatbelt that day.)
God is who I hold onto in the middle of night when I am in total despair. God is who I thank every fucking day for my Ulcerative Colitis remission—coinciding with my quitting teaching.
God gives me strength and belief that there is a plan. That all of this shit is not just random.
From a non-religious point of view: perhaps I am just tapping into a part of my higher consciousness.
But, I feel that power to be God. Or the Goddess. Or Mother Mary. Being with God is like being Home. It feels right.
God forgives me. He laughs with and at me. I know I am assigning human characteristics to a supernatural entity. But being a Catholic—it feels like home and it makes my life better.
Catholicism (and hell, no I don’t agree with all it) makes my life better.
Am I fooling myself? Maybe. Does it matter in the end? No.
I know in my heart what feels right. Being a Pagan felt right for years and I don’t for one instant believe that being a Wiccan (teen years), Pagan was a sin.
This world and life is just too AWE-SOME to be accidental, I think.
This is how I figure it. And then I will end my really long answer.
If you gave Native Americans in say 1650 a laptop they would be like WTF? they don’t even understand electricity or batteries. There is no basis of understanding. Hell, I am still in awe of a fax machine! If you’d given me an iPhone 25 years ago, I wouldn’t been like WTF!? But I have had a basis of understanding as I have seen technology evolve. So, I think understanding God is kinda like that. We just don’t even have the basis of understanding to fathom God yet.
I am all about evolution and the Big Bang. But something or someone had to make it go BANG.
Every day I am trying to figure it out.
“There are more things in heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Shakespeare.
God to me is my battery—what keeps me going when I feel like I have lost all hope.
All Gods are one God. No one religion is right. I am just stumbling toward Grace and Peace the best way I know how…
ADD ON TO THIS POINT: God is what I feel in my heart, body, soul, and spirit. I feel God in life. I can see gravity—but I feel it.
Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless
In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel, Jed.
PS: AMAZON KINDLE I AM COMING FOR YOU. OH, HELL, YES, I AM COMING FOR YOU.
PPS: When I sat outside and had my coffee and cigarette and G-Pa was at the Club...I howled. Like really howled three times. Take that, bitches. I made a dog bark.
Grateful For:
Cross stitching
Making a girl feel better about her abusive situation
Coffee
Cigarettes
Health
Club picnics that give me alone time
Family
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