Putting Faith on Hold

I haven’t written much lately, because I’ve entered a very weird time in my life, one in which some of the old support systems no longer work for me. New support systems need to be created or old ones re-envisioned so that I can deal more effectively with circumstances around me. I suppose at my age, the down-side of my 40s, health starts to rear its ugly head, adult children’s needs change dramatically, and belief systems aren’t holding up their end of the bargain. Too young, you say? Not in this day and age.

The constant effort to “keep myself” within the sphere of God’s grace is almost not worth the effort at all. The payoff is nil. Church brethren are so absorbed in their own lives they don’t pay anyone else the time of day (unless your backslidden of course) and bible reading is dry and uninspiring. Once you “see behind the curtain” and remove the magic and mystery that our minds imbue it with, the bible is no more inspiring than reading the road atlas. Trying to pray, read the bible, go to church, and all the other things Christians tell us is necessary to keep God “near” seem like a waste of valuable time.

Another health problem has presented itself. I have to have another operation to fix my rapidly deteriorating bod. Insurance is sucky and they refuse to pay for necessary pre-surgery treatment. My son has graduated from Advanced Individual Training and is coming home for two weeks this weekend. He and his girlfriend are planning a wedding, so that’s good news. But, I haven’t been getting much sleep lately because the medical bills from the previous heart procedure are piling up. Hospitals want all the money now or else it’s to the collection agency you go. And in the midst of all this, Godde is silent. Fundies will tell me that Godde is silent because I’m not doing the “necessary” things mentioned above to keep Godde happy. I think I would prefer that God just tell his (sic) followers to offer a bowl of rice, light this or that candle, and say a certain prayer three times while spinning around like a top and God will be appeased. I realize I’m taking the legalistic approach here, but the “grace alone” stuff sure doesn’t seem to be working in my life. I haven’t been feeding my Catholic sensibilities by observing Lent. What’s the point? Monumental effort with crumbs of grace dispensed at God’s whim?

Naw, I can’t see the sense in trying to move toward the Supreme Immovable without some payoff. I’m not that self-sacrificial. Besides, God isn’t there when the bills need to be paid (never has, why start now?). God isn’t there to lend a helping financial hand when your house burns down or your car stops working. What’s the point of feeling spiritually fit and “close to God” when you’re starving or homeless or you have only months to live? Not much.

So, the dry spell continues. I can’t muster enough energy to care who’s President, who wants to be President, or whether Barack Obama is the Messiah. I don’t really care about the petty squabbling of rich Democrats and Republicans who have never had to worry about bills in their lives or whether they dispense with the lives of military personnel by ordering them to go here or there without funding, weapons, or psychiatric care of any kind. I can’t sympathize with the health care and insurance racketeers who worship the almighty dollar more than public health. And I certainly don’t care whether Angelina Jolie or Brad Pitt or Oprah Winfrey or any other movie star is in another country trying to “improve” the poor lives of people farther down the food chain (when there are kids in America in abject poverty) or whether these “stars” have anything to say about anything. Rich doesn’t make you relevant in any way, shape, or form.

So, I’m still waiting for Godde to thump me on the head and tell me to get my ass in gear, shape up or ship out, or whatever he (sic) liked to do in the old days. I’ll sit here in my “ashes” and wait it out. It worked for Job. Eventually, God had to come down and put an end to the tripe his friends offered. Oh, wait, I forgot, God doesn’t speak to women. In the words of Emily Latella, “Never mind!”


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