When My Son Folds the Laundry

Batman helps.

Happy End of Year

In a lot of ways I feel like the "New Year" is just an arbitrary marking of the passing of time. Also, starting something new in the dead of winter never really made much sense to me, I think spring would be much better, but I don't make the rules. It does give us a reference point though, to look back at where we've been and look forward to something fresh. I personally never make resolutions, but I do have hopes for 2014 that were not at all on my radar in when 2013 began.

The view this morning.

It's been a big year for me, one I never saw coming, but it is what it is at this point. In 2014, I hope to:

• Get all the kids signed up for public online/ hybrid schools. I feel like they need more education than I can give them, and they really do need some social interaction as well. I want them to be able to be kids and that includes...
• Get the kids involved in activities. We have been on a very tight budget over the last several years, but now that I am working, I hope to be able to provide them with more opportunities to pursue their interests.
• Do well at my job and carve out a spot for me to thrive there. I am really liking it so far and I think this could be just the thing for us.
• Get more exercise. I think running around 3-4 nights a week for 5 or 6 hours nonstop should cover that.
• Continue to write here on the blog although I don't really know about what.
• Enjoy life to the fullest and try to be a blessing to others.

My favorite quote of the year was by my husband. When I mentioned that something went against every fiber of my being (in thriftiness matters) he replied:

You have a new being with new fibers.

I like that. 

So goodbye 2013, it was nice knowing you!

The Christmas Post

Just because I want to post something:)

(tree not pictured)

We don't have a big tree as I eschewed it in years past of being pagan and such, but our neighbor gave us a tabletop last year and we set that up on the piano this year. I put their tiny stockings next to it.



New and old movies/video games.

Someone enjoying her new princess tent:

Our neighbor brought the boys this:

My daughter's bff and her on a two day sleepover extravaganza:

Her friend's Adventure Time shoes are too cute.

I spent some time studying for the menu test that I had to take before they released me to go on my own. Which I was told was one of the most accurate tests he'd ever seen:) I had my first night on the floor Friday and it went very well.




I hope you all had a great Christmas, too!

The Year of the Funerals

I have never been to as many funerals in one year than I have this past year. With all the changes that were going on with me in religion, the timing was ironic and just added more dimension to the whole thing.


My husband's great aunt, my uncle and both of my maternal grandparents passed away in 2013.







My grandmother had been sick for some time and by the time she did go to the doctor and they found the cancer, it was pretty much too late. She was sent home and hospice came out in the last few weeks. I was able to visit often with the kids. I was able to tell her I loved her. We talked about old times, I got to visit with relatives I hadn't seen in years. She passed away peacefully in her sleep. She had lived a good long life; she was ready to go. In January, at her funeral, I was still holding onto my Christianity. I believed that everyone was going back "home" someday, somehow. The pastor of her church gave a short sermonette about salvation which I thought was a bit strange. I would have rather heard family tell stories about Grandma. Grandma had always been a believer as long as I had known her and the only times we ever really went to church was on the nights we slept over at their house. She was kind to everyone and just a great lady.

This was the church she spent most of her adult life at. I remember it well.

In September when Grandpa died, my faith had just imploded. Grandpa had become ill right before and especially after Grandma passed. They had been married for 60 years and were still deeply in love, you could tell. I remember one time when I was spending the night as a kid, catching them in an embrace in their kitchen. I remember thinking ewww they're too old for that (they probably weren't much older than me at the time:)) but it was very sweet also. I knew they were soul mates. Grandpa missed her terribly and just gave up. Grandpa wanted no church funeral or fancy burial. Although I think he had some kind of faith, he didn't go to church with Grandma. I honestly don't know what he thought about the whole thing, he never talked about it. He was a wonderful grandpa and a good man.

This was taken near their home on the way to a visit. It is just beautiful out there.

There was one night of viewing at a funeral home and then a graveside service the next morning for Grandpa. He and Grandma were buried next to each other in a very small cemetery out in rural Rush County just a few miles from their home. It was an absolutely gorgeous day that day. My cousin, who is going to Bible College, read some passages from 1 Corinthians 15 about the resurrection. I stood there and listened to the words I had read and studied so many times before. It hurt to hear them, I don't know what I felt, but it was very hard. My husband squeezed my hand during the reading as if he understood that.  I looked out at the fields around the cemetery, the wind was blowing, it was warm. Grandpa would have loved this day, it was a perfect day. Several people shared stories about Grandpa after that and then we all went back to my aunt's house to be together.


Facing death on that day without the hope of the resurrection was very unsettling. I was glad that I no longer worried that anyone was going to Hell, but it was sad that maybe this was it. A man and a woman fall in love, have a life together, grow old and pass away. All that is left are memories. Then again, maybe they are together somehow in another realm. No one knows.




 It seems like we should be able to know.

Beautiful Evening

Merry Christmas!

I can still say that right?



Seriously, I am really enjoying it this year. I was able to sell a bunch of stuff on eBay this summer and had a nice stash for gifts. The shopping is done and wrapping will be finished this afternoon. We are going to a party tonight here in town and it is always good food and drinks and fun.




We'll probably stay up late, the Mr. and I, watching some Netflix and waiting for the kids to go to bed to put out the gifts.


Tomorrow is just going to be a lazy day. I'm making my homemade pizza and we plan to watch Scrooge together as a family.


The days are starting to get longer and after a week of rain and gloominess, the sun is out today. It's cold though, but the frostiness is quite beautiful.

.


I'm looking forward to the upcoming new year. I feel like I have closed a chapter (a long one) and am excited about what lies ahead.


Thanks for everyone who has read and commented this past year!



My daughter always finds the funniest stuff on the web, so enjoy this:

Have a great holiday everyone:)

Frosty

The Grass Ain't Greener

Yesterday we went to my mom's for our Christmas gathering. She and my step dad live on the opposite side of the city that we do, so it's a bit of a drive. I cannot stand driving on the interstate, but since it is the fastest way, that's what we do. I have to drive, you see, as well as my husband since our van only holds 7 and there are 8 of us. We have had to caravan everywhere for the last five years since little miss was born(our van ironically was paid off right before).






I usually follow my husband, but he most always gets way too far ahead of me and I lose him. I lost him pretty early on, but I do know how to get to Mom's, but just not exactly the way he was going. I took an exit that I wasn't sure was right and then proceed to "feel" my way west. I guess I should mention that I have no GPS or smartphone, so it's old school navigating.




Thankfully, the exit dumped me into a main road and I just needed to decide which direction to turn. As I was making sure we were heading west, I explained to my son that I could tell by the addresses on the stores whether we were heading toward or away from downtown and since the numbers were getting bigger, we were in good shape. He was fascinated by all this and got the map out of the glove-box and tried to find where exactly we were. He's Mr. million questions now about driving. He can't wait. He wants to know how I know how to get places. He wants to start the car, turn on the lights, put it in gear. He is full of wonder and excitement about growing up and being able to drive. I remember being the same way, thinking that everything was going to be so freaking awesome when I was a grown up.





Seeing things through his eyes got me thinking. Grown up life is not as great as we imagine as little kids. Things go wrong, our hearts get broken. We learn that people can be cruel and the world can be quite scary and not so magical. We start to understand why adults can be so grumpy and blase about all the cool things that they "get" to do that kids can't. I remember being a kid wasn't all that great either, looking through it with the eyes of a kid. They have no real control of their lives, parents are often too busy or wrapped up in their own problems to stop and listen. They have rules that they feel are unfair or don't understand, they want so badly to just be grown up so they can do their own thing.


I guess all we can do is try to make the best of the season of life we are in. Stop looking back or forward and enjoy the here and now. I wonder why it is that we have such a hard time just living in the moment?

Ay, Caramba!

It was busy at the restaurant last night....busy. 

(I swear I'm not going to talk about my job here all the time.)



My goodness! I've got to get back into shape. This is crazy how tired I am.





So anyway, I don't know what I'm going to do here in the way of writing. I'm not out of ideas, but my brain is toast this morning. All I have running through my head is menu items and such. I've got a busy weekend ahead to finish up my training.







And Christmas is in 5 days!!!






On a completely unrelated note, this picture in my son's reader reminded me of someone. A certain someone on a certain show that my husband and I are just now catching on NetFlix (or "NeckFlicks" as my five year old calls it). A show that is strangely addictive. (hint)

I wish I could give a prize to whoever guesses it, but I still don't have any cash on hand yet, but you can have bragging rights for figuring it out.


Okay, I've got a menu to study.

Late Afternoon

Movin' on Up

I did something yesterday that I haven't done in over fourteen years.




I went to work.




Funny thing. It seems that growing children tend to want to eat like crazy as they start to hit teendom. We were doing fine, but things were just a little bit tighter budget-wise than we would like them, and I'm tired of tight budgeting. I'd like to have some money for crying out loud. So after some deliberation with my husband, it was decided that I would try to get a part time job a few evenings a week.





I am now a server at a local casual dining restaurant. (I'm not saying just where for safety-never know who's out there reading plus there's some social media policy of theirs that I haven't read all the way through so.....).


Back before the kids, I was a waitress and I LOVED it- the action, the drama, the craziness of a packed restaurant on a Friday night- the atmosphere is electric. And I was good at it. For some reason I think I was partially put on this planet to wait on tables. When I walked into the place last night it was as if I never left the scene after all these years. I am training, of course, and shadowed someone last night, but did end up pretty much taking a table on my own. The lady at the table wrote a note on the back of her receipt saying that I was really nice and that she hoped my first day was good.

I've still got it baby!




I came home pretty wiped out from being on my feet for several hours and running back and forth between tables and the kitchen. My muscles are sore and my feet a bit tired, but it feels really good:)

Corner Post

Some sort of Weed

Intercessory Prayer

Over the past few months, I have been reading and listening to a number of "deconversion" stories online. These were/are so helpful to me in feeling less alone during this tempestuous time.  In revisiting one recently, I resonated very much with his understanding and abandonment of intercessory prayer.

The creator of this series has a very soft spoken character and I was touched by his honestly and openness as to the chain of events that caused him to become an atheist. I especially like the part where he said that this change in prayer habits happened entirely within his Christian world view. His eventual deconversion took years and while it was happening, he wasn't even aware it was happening.



EXACTLY



My eventual abandoning of Christianity took years and years and during all that time I didn't realize this would be where I ended up.


The whole series is very good and I recommend it for anyone who is struggling with these issues or just for anyone who is curious as to why and how this could have happened.





It reminds me of something my son said once about prayer. This unsettled me at the time, because he was right, of course. I wonder how much of answered prayer was coincidence or maybe there are some metaphysical forces in play. Maybe it's just luck.




I find that strange synchronicities still occur for me on a somewhat regular basis without my praying. For example, just yesterday while out Christmas shopping, I needed just a little something to finish one of my son's gifts. As I wandered around aimlessly, I came across a dollar bin of various stuff and sitting on top was exactly what I needed. It was misplaced, but the cost at $3 was also perfect. Was the Universe setting that toy on top of the dollar bin that I would naturally be attracted to? Again, as I deliberated about a certain purchase, I struck up a brief conversation with another shopper who was buying the same item. This convinced me to go ahead and get it.



While waiting in line for an extremely long time in another store, I found a pack of styluses for my daughter's computer in the impulse buy shelf that weren't in the electronics section. They were perfect and the price just right.


All these things seem mundane, but I would have attributed all these small, fortunate coincidences to some divine providence just a year ago. Not that I am not thankful, I am. The little things that go right and the things that go wrong haven't changed, it's just that I'm not so sure what to do with them anymore.

Bare Branches

It's All in the Presentation

I do the weekly food shopping on Saturday and by the end of the week the kids have pretty much swooped through everything like a hoard of locusts.  My sister brought two large McDonald's fries to them a couple of weeks ago and she was completely stunned at how fast they disappeared. (It was kind of embarrassing, but I was too busy gobbling my stash down):)



This week has been particularly bad for some reason. I think a couple of the boys are on a growth spurt combined with the cabin fever due to the intense cold that is keeping them from going outside.




But there are oranges, plenty of them.

Yes one apple looks like it has a bite taken out of it. No one will claim responsibility for that.

They are hiding under the apples that seem to be the only fruit anyone will eat. Every time I remind them about the oranges I get a hundred excuses as to why they can't eat them. They have been in there for a couple of weeks and are starting to get wrinkly.

Wrinkly

Now that they have eaten all the "good" snacks for the week, I need to sell these oranges, but no one was buyin', so about snack time yesterday, I tried a little experiment.



I cut some up all pretty like and just set them on the table without saying a word and went back to my cleaning.



4:05 P.M. : Full plate of orange slices

I wait. It took about thirty seconds for the first one to show up. Then they all swarmed.

This one told me with tearful sincerity not one hour before that he hated fruit.





4:16 P.M.:

I wonder what kind of exciting thing I can do with the rest of them today?

Some Color

It's as Cold as it Looks

Santa and Skepticism (Part 3)

Even though I saw the horrid reaction to the truth of Santa to someone who was clearly not ready to take the "red pill", the opportunity to share my new found information presented itself one Christmas morn shortly after my finding out.


Our Christmas morning routine was probably much like everyone else's. We would get up at like 5 a..m.; Mom would tell us to go back to bed for a little while. We would go back to our rooms until about 6, then after what seemed like an eternity, Mom and Dad would emerge and the festivities would begin.





Mom would join us in the living room in her robe and slippers and put on the Christmas music, but we always had to wait for Dad to take a shower first..arrrrgh! So it was another ten or twenty minutes of taking inventory 'round the tree, shaking boxes, peering into our stockings until we could finally open presents. On this fateful year, as we were waiting on Dad to get out of the shower, my younger sister confided in me that she was pret-ty sure that Santa was just Mom and Dad. Bing Crosby's Merry Christmas album was playing while I considered my response. Since it seemed that she had a matter-of-fact handle on it, I told her she was right. She was not apparently okay with it and started crying. I don't really remember the rest of the way it all went down, but she was upset and Mom was peeved that I had chosen that exact moment to confirm my sister's suspicions. I just wanted to be honest with her. I didn't want to ruin Christmas, but it was a bit dampened that day, I suppose.




When our first couple of kids were very small at first Santa was somewhat done, with cookies and beverage (our Santa preferred beer to milk) set out on Christmas Eve, surprise gifts placed under the tree the next morning and all that. I didn't feel good about it, though, since I knew how badly I had taken it. I really didn't want to go down this road, but my husband seemed to think it was no big deal, so I played along.




That all changed when my oldest daughter busted me trying to slip a Tooth Fairy dollar under her pillow. She was not amused.  She couldn't believe we had actually lied to her (yes those were her words) and we talked about all the others- Santa and the Bunny. I was glad she knew and from then on we never introduced the idea to any of the other kids.




I guess maybe they missed out on some of the fun and excitement the other kids have who believe in Santa, but I don't regret the way we did things. I can honestly tell them (even the littlest ones) that Santa is not real, it is a story.  They are free to tell their kids someday whatever they want to and I won't (hopefully) butt in. I guess what the whole Santa experience taught me is that kids (and grown ups) want to believe in magic and kids will do so naturally until their brains begin to analyze the stories they hear with the facts of the world we live in 24/7. Discovering on my own that Santa wasn't real after I had been led to believe so for all my young life was rather disillusioning to me. I was upset that people whom I trusted lied to me and even piled lies on top of lies to keep the illusion going. But mostly I felt sad that this magical man that I had written letters to, worried about being good for, and spent so much time trying to make real in my own mind was imaginary. I guess that was the worst part; it was all just a fairy tale.


What do you think? Is Santa something you do with your kids? Have you had any bad experiences with finding out the truth?


Part 1
Part 2

Lights

Santa and Skepticism (Part 2)

I did feel a bit deceived, but then again a bit of a smarty pants for my awesome discernment skills. I confronted Mom and asked her point blank and my findings were confirmed. We agreed that I keep it under my hat since I was the oldest of three and we didn't want to ruin Christmas for them....just yet.





But back to the deceit. It was a gnawing little pain in my stomach. Why? Why the lies about the reindeer and the North Pole and the elves and the naughty and nice list and the elaborate excuses when we brought up holes in the whole thing? What was the point of it? This is fun? Yes is was fun when I believed it, but maybe like with other things in my adult life, I just took it all too seriously. I wanted to believe it. It was magical, mystical, other worldly, too good to be true. It really did break my heart when I found out that all the adults in my life were in cahoots in all this.

Hey wait a minute....what about the Easter Bunny....The Tooth Fairy?....(God)?




Yes, my young brain went there. I was never indoctrinated into anything, but I knew the general story. I supposed that if all these other imaginary things weren't real then the idea of God was probably just a story, too.  It wasn't until I met my husband that I started to think otherwise.




I was still on the young side of those who had figured this out on their own, so I also kept quiet around my friends. One day at school during this particular Christmas season a boy in our class stared crying very loudly and ran out of the room. Word was that one of the other kids had told him the truth about Santa. This kid was crushed, I mean wailing and gnashing of teeth crushed. I will always remember that.




(to be continued)


Part 1

First Snow

They all (but the 14 year old) went out first thing before breakfast. I wish I was as excited about snow.

Santa and Skepticism (Part 1)

When I was a youngster, my parents did the Santa thing with us girls. From as far back as I can remember we would go to my Grandma's on Christmas Eve, eat supper, and open presents. Then we would come home and open one present from Mom and Dad and then off to bed.





You remember how hard it was to get to sleep.








The next morning, the tree would have a new coat of candy canes, there would be mysterious new boxes in never before seen wrapping paper. Santa had come again somehow mysteriously whilst we slept! He had eaten all but a few bites of the homemade sugar cookies we set out and all but a sip of the bottle of Coke we always left for him. (My dad couldn't stand milk and preferred Coca~Cola). It was magical, the warm light of the tree in the early December morning, the Christmas music, the anticipation-good times.

As the years wore on and I got a little older my sisters and I started discussing the mechanics of all this. We didn't have a chimney and how did Santa know about the thing I wanted that I forgot to include in my letter to him?




It was explained that many houses don't have chimneys and Santa can get in other ways. His elves are everywhere and are always spying to find out what we really want. My sister and I reckoned that the elves must be very small indeed to be spying on us. I remember one time we imagined that they were in the wall listening through the holes in the electrical outlets.




As I got a bit older I wondered why if Santa's elves made the toys, that they looked just like the toys and came in the same packages as the toys in our local Target and Kmart stores. Then I wondered how Santa could really fly around the world in one night in a reindeer powered sleigh and then how he could possibly know who was naughty or nice. I had also noticed that the richer kids at school got more presents. The tiny mental gears were turning until one day I figured out that it just couldn't possibly be true. Logic led me to search out the real magic behind Old Saint Nick and it didn't take too long to figure it out. Of course Mom and Dad were doing all this. It was my first experience of relieved cognitive dissonance. As much as this new revelation made all the pieces fit, I couldn't help but feel, if even in some small way, that I had been deceived.

Last Leaves Hanging On

Onward

So what now?



I've been asking myself that question for the last few months. I've been on a long journey that has circled me around to where I started. I'm back to trying to figure out what life is about all over again. I'm tired. I'm sad.




Why are we here?
Why is there so much beauty and yet so much evil in this world? 
Why does the thought that it will end for me one day bother me so much?





The decisions I've made in my life for the last 18 years or so were based on being a Christian.  I feel like I've lived my life not for me and my family, but for Jesus.






It wasn't all bad, but the emotional toll of trying to make it all fit together, the worry about people I care about going to Hell, the worry that I wasn't doing it right, the angst of trying to grasp the hand of God and just missing it over and over and never being at peace was too much. The regrets of the past, the worries of the future took many years of happiness and peace from me. Things that tormented me I see now were not really that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things.  And now I don't believe anymore that I was born sinful and hopelessly lost without God. I've tried to be a good person, but I've also made mistakes and done some really stupid and hurtful things. I'm human just like everyone else and now I can start to explore how to be the best one I can be and be true to myself and to those around me.






I won't say with any certainty that God does not exist. I have always felt that we have a spirit, something that seems like it must live on somehow. I would not call myself Christian anymore, but that doesn't change the fact that humans, for whatever reason, feel the need to connect with the great unknown, the transcendent, the divine. I still need that.



I think of that little girl, trying to imagine nothingness and hoping that once her life is over, she will find that there is something and that it is wonderful. All this did have meaning somehow.




I do continue to hope so.







I am so thankful to live in this place at this time. The access to medical care, food, entertainment, and especially information is absolutely amazing. We are blessed to live in a wonderful country where we have the freedom to express ourselves and I don't fear being arrested or burned at the stake for publicly expressing my doubts in the truth of Christianity.


I am madly in love with my husband and he treats me like a queen. I have six healthy, beautiful children. We have a roof over our heads, plenty of creature comforts and family who love us.



I have hope for the future and for my children's futures. I am not worried anymore that mistakes I have made, my husband has made, or my children have and will make will condemn them to an eternal doom. There are consequences for bad choices, but I don't believe anymore that those are eternal.





In the end, my many years of Christianity left me constantly searching, always having more questions than answers. The traditions of the Catholic church that were said to have been rock solid and unchanging since the time that Jesus established it were anything but. The Bible as the word of God and only rule of faith proved to be contradictory, confusing, inaccurate, and sadly made God look not so great in many places. All the systems of theology I went through and studied to try to make sense of it each had a chink in the armor that made them fail, too. In pursuing the personal relationship aspect, I had a hard time telling which was His voice and which was just mine. All this led me to wonder just why this was the only way. As I continued my search, I discovered it couldn't be and it most likely wasn't. Losing my Christianity was like losing a part of myself, the most important and deep part, and it was (and still is at times) extraordinarily painful.





I want to thank everyone who read this story of mine. Those of you who challenged me caused me to think. Those who resonated with my story comforted me in knowing that I'm not alone.  Those who left along the way showed me that sometimes people have to separate themselves in order to uphold their own principals and I respect that. I hope that the rest of you will stick around as I plan to continue to write, about what I'm not sure, but I do know I like it and it helps me to feel more alive.





Truth seeking will always be a passion of mine and I don't intend to stop now. If one day I do find myself at the judgement seat of (the Christian) God, He will surely know just how much I cared about truth and how hard I tried to find it. I would tell him how much I appreciate this life I was given.  My cup really does run over.







<previous post



This is the end of this series, it is all indexed here.

The Field

It's been very warm here for the last few days. I was able to go out and take a walk in the field next to our house. I just wanted to keep on walking.

The Last Summer

Take me through the centuries to supersonic years 

Electrifying enemy is drowning in his tears 

All I have to give you is a love that never dies 

The symptom of the universe is written in your eyes 

Symptom of the Universe- Black Sabbath

After I asked the question I did a fair amount of research on the origins of the Bible, Judaism, Christianity, but I didn't want to get swept up into any propaganda or conspiracy theories. I had my own experience to draw upon and just wanted some outside factual views. I knew full well how easy it was to get swept up into this or that and I didn't want to go there again, but I was surprised at much of what I found out. I didn't know a lot of these things because I never looked at it objectively as someone who was on the outside. During all my years as a believer I just assumed the arguments made by skeptics were cooked up because they were rebellious at heart and didn't want God telling them what to do. That explanation made sense and kept me from ever really looking into any arguments against Christianity. But now, I could see why. I could finally understand why the skeptics were skeptical.  I knew the reasons all too well. Many of these skeptics were former believers who had been where I had been, some much more so.  I read many stories like mine. And I cried...a lot.





I was pretty sure I didn't believe it anymore. I couldn't. After all these years the one thing that meant the most to me was gone.



It's hard to describe the emotions that followed.

I felt detached from everything, like a shell just walking around.  I would stand at the edge of the field that is next to our house where I loved to watch the sunrise or look out the laundry room window where I liked to watch the sunset- the "thin places" in my world where I could see the glory of God. The places I uttered my silent confessions, adoration, petitions. The places where I felt the presence of God and wondered what it was I had been doing all this time. If God is not in charge (or at very least not the Christian God) then what? I felt empty, scared, at times I felt as if I had been deceived.


We had stopped going to church and never did end up at Mass.



My husband and I spent that summer just being. We created an outdoor area for hanging out, cooked out often, played cards with the older kids, had some drinks.  I felt like I had to tell him, really tell him that I was, well, that I didn't believe anymore...I didn't even know where to start. One night while we were finishing up supper, I just flat out told him that I was having a lot of doubts about Christianity.




I know

What about you?

Everyone's got their ideas.

I feel like I'm losing a part of myself.

I know.







Jesus told us to seek and we would find.  I honestly believed that if Christianity were really true that no amount of searching it out could do any harm. I considered myself a very dedicated Christian more than the average and very very serious about my faith. I didn't just accept whatever I was told, though, I struggled, studied, wanted to know the very mind and heart of God. It really was everything to me, and now it was going away.




One night right after we turned out the lights to go to sleep I just lost it. I knew that this was probably it for any vestiges of Christian belief that I had. I was ready to let it go.


I went into the bathroom and sat on the floor and cried for about fifteen minutes just trying to get the tears out. I went back to bed exhausted and puffy eyed and zonked out.







I woke up in the morning angry.


Angry that I had spent almost 20 years of my life cowering in fear of God's judgement and not being able to enjoy them fully...
Angry that I had caused so many rifts in my marriage and in my family over religion...
Angry that I had invested so much time and my heart and soul and everything into the study of something that I discovered I just couldn't believe anymore...





 I spent the next few weeks just being angry.





As the anger started to turn more into depression I sat down and started writing.




<previous part


next part>

Numbers

Two number photos taken from our house address. Two special numbers here today. A shared birthday.


I wouldn't want to be 14 again, it is such a hard time of life. 41 doesn't scare me too much, I feel like I'm finally really a grown up.

A Warm Start to December

The Comforter

I got static in my head

The reflected sound of everything

Tried to go to where it led

But it didn't lead to anything

Tomorrow Tomorrow- Elliott Smith

The Spirit of God is promised to all believers. I truly believed I had it from the first time I asked God to reveal Himself to me and perhaps even before.


Back in high school and college when I was depressed a lot, I used to go driving in the country to listen to music and think. In some of my most hopeless moments, it seemed like sometimes there was a presence there, a comforting spirit that would help me to feel better. I kind of always felt like something or someone was watching me, too. I had spiritual like experiences in the past even before coming to Jesus, some may have been due to "outside influences" but in altered states, the mind goes places that one just doesn't usually go. There is another dimension, even if only in one's mind.





What I found as I tentatively wandered out the of the Christian (but not spiritual) box, that the feelings that I always associated with being the Comforter would happen anyway, without my being directly connected to or focused upon Jesus or Christianity. In the months that my faith was slipping away, many times a song, a moving scene from a movie or video game, or fellowship with my children or husband would bring about such feelings of being connected with the Spirit of God.




I discovered this when I began meditating, too and I started to wonder about the implications of it. Maybe it didn't matter if I was praying to Yahweh in Jesus's name, Jesus, Mary, Shiva, Allah, Krishna, Ganesh or the three goddesses of Hyrule. The very act of praying or contemplating on the sacred or anything like that seemed to produce the same feelings in me. I wondered if that had happened to anyone else.



The flood of emotions that I felt during my salvation experience may not have been exclusive to Christianity. I had heard of the Mormon's burning in the bosom, but I also discovered that in all faith traditions there are similar (or essentially the same) feelings that are produced.  Maybe this feeling is coming from within one's own self and not some outside force. All people of all religions can't all have the Holy Spirit if Jesus is the only way. Are they all deceived but not us? How would we know, because the Bible says so?




So on top of the fact that I couldn't reconcile all the contradictions in the Bible, couldn't find any unity among Christians about how to be and stay saved, what Hell was or wasn't, baptism, communion and sacrament disagreements, now I was finding that my own personal experience may be in question as to the truth claims of Christianity.



With all the doubts I had about my Christian walk over the years, I had never doubted the path itself, but now the question raced into my thoughts. The question; how do I know any of this is true at all? After I was saved, I jumped in head first. I didn't read the Bible and then decide that this was the true faith. I didn't research Church history to find out if what they claimed was based on fact. I didn't search all world religions to see which one made the best case. I had an emotional experience and prayed to the only God I had ever heard of.



Upon finally realizing this, I had to make a decision. Was I going to try to find the truth or was I going to pretend that I never had the question?




<previous part


next part>