Coming out

I've outed myself a couple of times in online places. Back in February, I admitted on FB that I actually really like Hot Chelle Rae. I know - it's not good music, but it makes me want to MOVE and makes me sing and smile simultaneously. I outed myself long ago as being bisexual, and it was an important point in this post. And a couple of days ago, I admitted the possibility that after all these years proclaiming my extrovertedness, I might be an introvert (gasp!).

Now I'm going to come out on something else. I'm a (mostly) centrist liberal. I'm not registered with either major party (I know, gasp again!) and I believe very much in individual rights. I know that we sometimes have to consider the needs of the many over the needs of the one, but as the balance of how that feels and works tends to vary from person to person, whenever it is possible to uphold the rights of an individual without endangering others, I think that should be the priority. A lot of my politics come down to privacy and individual rights . . . thus, mostly a liberal.

But I'm a liberal who believes that life begins at conception. (I hope you saved some gasps for that.) I will likely be asked to leave the liberal enclave now. I might even be escorted out. Does this mean I have to leave the club? Start listening to different music? Be a suit? I hope not.

I said "life begins at conception" in the long, awkward-sentence way because I am NOT pro-life. (not, Not, NOT!!).

In fact, I really hate the idea that this question can be broken down into two camps at all, but what I might hate even more is the inequality between the two. Pro-life vs. Pro-choice? Soooo, if you believe in a woman's right to choose (or her partner's, for that matter . . . because, I don't know if you know this, but - pssssst!! - men are involved in making babies. I say this because we seem to have forgotten about male participation in pregnancy in this country of late.) you are . . . Anti-Life?

Moreover, a woman who considers an abortion clearly has no respect for life, if things are broken down this way . . . she hasn't, for instance, considered what kind of life that baby would have, if born, or how she would or wouldn't be able to provide for it, health issues, issues about parenting and her partner's involvement. (Sarcasm is dripping heavily now)

I have to be honest here and say every single woman I've known who has considered abortion, much less had one, have had the long view on life and asked themselves not just "how will this impact me?" but "what kind of life would this child have? Am I prepared/ready/able/supported in order to give them the best life possible?" Every. Single. One. (Certainly, there are women who may have abortions blithely, but I don't know them.)

On the other hand, I have never heard someone who was vocally "Pro-Life" (yes, the scare quotes are necessary) clearly answer what should happen to the unwanted, unplanned for children that they think should be born regardless. Their interest seems to end in making sure that the woman cannot get access to a medical procedure protected by law, or that she is intimidated out of it. What happens with that child seems to be someone else's issue to sort out.

Granted, in the last couple of years I haven't asked any of them . . . there were some really scary people who used to gather outside of the building that was next to my Physical Therapist's office. There was a cordoned off area, and 6 times a week, as I drove down and back that street, I saw them very visibly and audibly praying. It took me going during a snow storm to see they the sign they were congregated in front of - "Boulder Women's Clinic" - before I realized they were there to pray away the patients and doctors of that facility. Maybe I should go back and ask them if they have thoughts about what someone who is emotionally and financially unprepared for parenthood should do once their baby is born. Maybe I should ask them if a mother who already has children should lay down her life in the situation where its a health risk for an unborn baby. But instead I limped by in my knee braces and said, "It's nice how your right to scare people is protected."

(And please, let me be clear here. I support their right to pray, just as I support Rush Limbaugh's right to say putrid things about women, or my friend's who did get an abortion having the right to take that action. My issue is . . . if you believe prayers are heard, if you believe prayers are answered, if you believe prayer can change things, then you must also believe that there's no difference between praying at home for abortions to stop, and praying at the doorstep of the abortion clinic. In which case . . . why are you at the doorstep again? Oh, to intimidate people with your prayer. Yes, because the sacred act of praying and communing with God should always include that.)

For me, this came to a head one VERY early morning driving through deepest, darkest Pennsylvania. It was, no joke, like 5am. And as the sun rose over the rolling hills, every mile, on the mile, there was another graphic billboard showing, as it proclaimed, "the results of abortion." I mean, first of all, ick. People have children in their cars. (do the "Pro-Lifers" care about them?) And, also, it was 5am and as a 25 year old, I didn't need to see that. I'm all for truth, and information, but people can get that without it being splashed all over the road. They can go looking for it when it's pertinent to them. As it happens, I was driving to Connecticut that morning having worked late the night before. And I was driving to Connecticut to babysit my foster-brother while my mom went to some function.

And it hit me. What would happen if the pro-choice "side" advertised similarly, showing, "the results of unwanted children." Because, my foster brother was the best case scenario. He was neglected, but as far as anyone could tell, never abused; malnourished, but not unfed. He was developmentally delayed but not irreversibly damaged. And (and this is key) he was removed before his first birthday.

But I know something about babies that people have but don't raise. And I can't think of anything worse than that.

If those beaten, neglected, starved, emotionally-handicapped-for-life children were depicted graphically on billboards supporting Pro-choice you can be sure the "Pro-lifers" would cry foul saying it was overblown, predicting or even marketing abuse, and that the pro-choicers were using pain and suffering for their own political gain.

Umm, hi. Do you not think the woman who chooses abortion feels pain, remorse, regret? And also, dear "Pro-lifers" - whose life are you protecting? Do you have a way to help ensure that child you're insisting needs to be born will have the opportunity to have a good life? What about the woman? Her partner? Her other family? Other children she may be supporting? Yup, this is why "Pro Life" is in scare quotes for me.

So, I support my friends who have chosen abortion. Because children need so much that if you know you can't give it to them, or don't want to, or aren't able to . . . your having had sex, or birth control that failed, or whatever happened shouldn't doom somebody else to a life that can't be what it might have been in different circumstances.

I say all of this, and still admit it: I think life begins at conception. (I think it, but don't know it for sure. And it's important to note, it's what I think, and there's room for other people to think differently.) It would take out a piece of my heart to walk into "Boulder Women's Clinic" with or without the prayer-scarers. It would take very special circumstances too. I don't know what I believe about souls, or God, or "the right to life" (it seems like we are so casual with our other rights, I'm not sure why this right should be more important than others) but I know I think that whatever makes a person a person starts at conception not some magic date later. And still, I don't think it's my government's place to decide that for me, or anyone who may disagree with me. I'm not going to raise the children of those people, and neither are the prayer-scarers, or the "Pro-lifers" so who am I to make that decision for them?

It's also worth noting that . . . it's easy for me to say how difficult or impossible it would be for me to choose abortion since I'll never have to. This is perhaps the upside of having my junk be so jacked up as to be almost totally infertile - I can hypothetically take a hard line because I'll never be in the shoes of the women who actually have to make hard choices about their lives, their childrens' lives, their partners, and quality of life.

So, I'm a life-loving Pro-choicer? A Pro-lifer who protects choice? I'm not sure. But I do know that when issues as complex and personal as this are boiled down to two sides, everyone loses, and that in a free-society we should spend some time reflecting on reasons to make something illegal, not the reasons to legalize something; so I continue to straddle this line but not because I'm wishy-washy but because I object to the line in the first place.

Trust, belief, and responsibility

I realized recently that I spent 24 years in school. When I left, it was because I left, not because I quit. But I think I never really left school. I treat everything as an assignment. About a month ago I admitted to a friend that even the smallest, least important deadline for me is serious, serious business. If something is "due" I'm late if I get it done the day of, and it is on time if I am done a day early. I may have left school but it never really left me. I still approach things as homework. My trainer gives me a workout, and we agree on what I will do for cardio, and I refer to it as my exercise "assignment." When I was working, if I didn't have enough office time then my "homework" was to sit on the couch at night and catch up on my reports. (This is ironic because my office was 4 feet away from my couch so my homework could have been "office work" but . . . you know.) Even now that I'm not working, I make long to-do lists for myself each week and break them up by days and treat the things on them as my assignments. If I don't find a job in the next month I will have failed to complete my job search "homework" on deadline, on some level, even if that's not a reasonable reconciliation with job search realities or finances. So, when a friend texted me today and said, "Blog assignment . . . Trust. I would like to see what you have to say," I set aside the post I was writing about something else and began working on thoughts about trust in earnest..

I've written, not once, but twice about honesty. I've written about patience and forgiveness. I've even spent time talking about faith and confidence. Three of those posts were thoughts that burned deep and that I couldn't not take the time to fit words around. The fourth was a request from this same friend. Not an assignment, I can tell, because I sat on it for almost two months . . . and needed to because I had been grappling with it for many more months before she suggested it. It's probably important to note that this friend has a way of pinpointing the exact thing that is paining me; the thing that my skin is barely covering at any given moment. Who knew that such a bond could be formed over treadmills and swim practice?

I think some people are born with an innate sense of who to trust, how to trust, and how to be vulnerable and open with people that they trust. Or maybe I am wrong and everyone is born with an intuition about this. I've won enough children over to liking me (and in my not-expert-but-deeply-analyzed opinion having a young child like you is synonymous with them feeling safe enough to trust you to do right by them) to know not everyone does this at the same pace. Some kids have to gauge things over a few encounters, or watch others interact to get a sense of what they think of a new person. Others dive right in. If I can be vain for a moment, I've never had a kid NOT come to the conclusion that I was worth a shot, but have had a couple I've had to work a bit harder on. Is it their personality that makes the difference? Is it their life experience? Some of both? In two young-child anecdotes I have in mind, I can tell you that I am completely certain those were kids who have naturally cautious personalities and who take their time with everyone and everything. In two other cases, I know there was damage done before I met those little boys, and that it had shaped those younglings to fear judgement, reprisal, and to play everything close to the vest.

I remember so, so much that I wish I could forget, but it's impossible for me to look backwards from where I stand now and tell you what kind of kid I was. Was I one that ran headlong into believing in everything and everyone? Was I cautious and guarded, taking my time to warm up to people? I can't be sure, because I know everything I see from this stance is colored deeply by how little I trust or believe in fully now. I have to consciously choose to trust or be open to most people and have written much about the tough outer shell that not everyone cares to crack. I'm not pessimistic, exactly, it's more that . . . I'm never done collecting data and am accustomed for looking for the downside as a firmly instituted countermeasure to my tendency to so easily see the good in someone or something.

Trusting someone, and caring for them or loving them are two very different things. I can list for hours the people I love and care for. I see good in them. I've seen moments of amazing intellect, accomplishment, grace, talent, and good-heartedness in every single person that is in my life.  Generally, I believe Randy Pausch is right when he says in The Last Lecture that if you give people long enough they will show you their good side. I see it in abundance and so there are many people I love, who I suspect love me . . . I guess no one can ever really know what someone else feels, but in as much as I can know, I know those people love me too. So, I trust some people to love me, but not to be there for me. And some, I trust to be there for me, though they might not be the people I feel love from. I can count on one hand the people I trust to both love me and to be there for me.

The sad part of that statement is probably not that the list is so short, because the people on it are phenomenal. I would trust them with my life. In fact, one of them is my power of attorney, so I have literally trusted him to end my life according to my wishes. There is nothing sad I can say about these people but it is less than stellar that I'm not always on my own list. I don't always trust myself to show up for my own best interests. If I'm being honest, I've seen amazing growth in this area in the last two years, but some of it has been either thrust on me, or, it has to be mentioned, is marked also by huge failures in this area (and hopefully, equally huge comebacks). I think, for me, how this works is that I go through growth spurts with this. I grew immensely in college in being able to see myself as being worth trusting . . . and it's probably not accidental that that happened because I left home fully. I grew immensely in this area as I was deciding to leave grad school. I grew painfully as I discovered a way to stay here even when the reason I had come to Colorado had left. I think I'm now in the middle of another growth spurt, and it does make the joints a bit sore, but it also means I maybe have a clear image of not just who I am, or how I am, but how all that I know about myself can be trusted and loved.

For some people trust and feeling safe and secure comes from being able to predict what will happen, or how another person behaves. And for some, I think it comes from knowing that they if they can't see everything coming, they can at least trust someone to have good intentions and to do everything to act consistently with that. I grew up with a lot of inconsistency when it came to both of those routes to building and maintaining trust. And I've had a lot of experiences since where it has become painfully obvious to me that predicting how someone will act is just asking for trouble, and that I have imperfect intuition when it comes to who has my best interests at heart and who doesn't . . . On the one hand, I have 5 people who I know would walk through fire for me. On the other hand, I've been engaged twice and then walked away from those people, entirely because of trust issues. I had a friend break-up that affected me at least as much as those breakups. I've had advisers and mentors let me down, and I've placed my trust in people who didn't deserve it.

It's maybe not surprising, given all of this, that my brain is committed to collecting data. Whatever else I am doing, there is always some corner of my psyche that is collecting information, and either filing it or future use or stopping to analyze it against other data points. My therapist recently said, "You can't analyze your way through that one," about something we were discussing. I sat in shocked silence for about a minute after he said that because if analysis was off the table then . . . what else? It's also perhaps, not shocking that I use structure to control so much in my life, or give the illusion of control. Predictability gives me a chance of feeling secure, and collecting data gives me the best chance of seeing people and situations for what they really are.

But, ultimately, what has evolved is that trust for me comes from something much simpler than predictability or believing that someone has a good intention in their back pocket. I believe that the five people who I both love and trust have good intentions, and since I have collectively known those people for more than 50 years, while they may not be predictable, I know enough to make some good guesses. But, what ultimately sets those people apart from others in my life is . . . they are heartily responsible to something higher than today and tomorrow. We all have inconsistencies, but these are people who have worked hard to define their own values and principles, their own benchmarks of morality, and to live up to that. When they make mis-steps they feel remorse, but also a need to take responsibility for not falling into the same hole again. Anyone can trip and fall down a well, and people can even get lucky and find a way out, but it's the people who get out, step back, and do everything in their power to make sure they don't put themselves or anyone else in that situation again that earn my trust.

For me, trust is then not about what I feel for someone, or even about whether or not I think they have good intentions towards me, but so much more about a person's actions. I'm a verbal person. So, tell me you care, and I will listen sincerely but don't expect me to believe it unless you SHOW me. Tell me your plan, but don't expect my buy in until I see you take action. I may have faith on someone's ability to change, grow, or progress, but until they take responsibility for it I'm unlikely to have a lot of confidence.

This is maybe the heart of finding fidelity with myself. I haven't always been a person of profound integrity, but I have been deeply, profoundly defining myself by my honesty for more than two decades. I wasn't always this way. Like most children, as part of normal development, I tested the boundaries of honesty. I maybe tested these limits a little more or a little longer than some - probably it was normal, maybe it wasn't, but it was most definitely not treated as normal in my family. Looking back that seems to me to be significantly about the need to break out of the intense limitations and expectations placed on me, or even maybe the fact that not all of my needs were being met. But, since my view is very much from the inside I can't be sure about that. What I can be sure of is after about a year of that, it occurred to me that it felt horrendous to know that people didn't trust me, and it felt good when people did believe in me. It was that simple.

What I had to do to be trustworthy was ACT different. If being dishonest meant people couldn't trust that I would do what I said, I had to be careful to say only what I could live up to, and to then DO it. It's not small to me that I figured that out before I was old enough to choose important things for myself. And my convictions about honesty over social niceties, personal responsibility and independence, and moral structure followed from those actions and results. In this way, I feel down to the marrow of my bones the difference between an orthopraxy and an orthodoxy. When I don't find myself trustworthy to myself, it's not because I believe anything different, it's because I haven't taken responsibility to act that way. It's because I've drawn a moral line in the sand, and then tiptoed backwards across it. It's because I've declared a need for accountability and then eaten more than the designated 3 cups of popcorn for a serving of carbs.

Being trustworthy is extremely important to me. And the only way I know how to do that is to be honest. All the time. Without fail. Even if it costs me. And to back it up. To act consistently or own up to it when I haven't and sincerely try to change so that it doesn't happen again. It is how others see me as being worthy of keeping their confidences, of being let into their inner circles, of walking their dogs and holding their babies, as being loyal or compassionate or reliable is all in being talk plus action.

This is, of course at the heart of my issues with God. I can believe in all kinds of things when it comes to my spirituality, but it's hard to measure actions when it comes to God. In my post about ATM fraud, I talked about love providing and protecting. But I also admitted that it was impossible to separate whether it was people and systems or some bigger force acting through people that accomplished that. And I flat out refused to answer the question raised at one of the last church services I was at of whether or not we can trust God. Do I trust God? I suspect this is at least in part the question my friend was really hoping I'd tackle. And I might answer that question differently, moment to moment, especially right now. But, I'd probably have to say something towards what I heard in a 12 step Al-Anon meeting last summer - the speaker said that if she had to bet something that mattered, like her kids' lives, on God existing, she wasn't sure she could answer a resounding yes. But, she knew with certainty that she was more successful, more healthy when she acted like she believed and turned things over to her higher power because it meant she spent less time being crazy about things she couldn't control.

I want action. I want answers. It's hard to bang a trash can and get God to do that on my schedule or to get my higher power to make it clear that the things I'm experiencing are by design. And because I'm not just a "walk the walk" girl of action, but also not blessed with a lot of intuitive trust or innate faith, it's a hard problem for me. I'd rather act and see if belief takes root from that (orthopraxy) than believe and not act (how many approach orthodoxy). Put another way, I'd rather act and then believe than believe and NOT act. The words of my sensei come back to me, "Fake it 'til you make it."

Here's what I trust. I trust five people in my life to care about saying things that matter, and living up to them. I trust that when I don't know what to do, I can talk to them and get a meaningful reality check. And if I can't talk to them, I can ask myself what one of them would think of what I'm doing or how I'm doing it. I trust myself to act in ways that maintain their trust in me, and I'm learning how to treat myself as well as I treat them in that respect. I want to be the sixth person on that list of people. And I have a handful of candidates to round out that second hand of people I can count who I love AND trust. I trust myself to do the right thing, according to my values, as long as I take a beat to line everything up in my head and collect all the data in one place. I trust that I can't control everything, but I know too that controlling a certain amount of my environment helps me function. I trust that If I keep doing these things, I will someday be able to match my intuition with the data in the corresponding basket. I'll never stop collecting the data and analyzing, but maybe I'll be able to someday trust the picture I see forming from it.

Loving the lesson (church of Our Lady Gaga)

2/20/12 Addendum: This post has begun to be referred to as "church of Our Lady Gaga." Why that's the nickname will make more sense below, but you know, tee hee.

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Every time I write about faith or belief or God, I feel concerned. Will my atheist and questioning friends feel I'm on an agenda? Will my religious friends understand that my doubts and questions and struggles are about . . . envy for their deep reserve of confidence in something bigger than themselves?

Mostly, I worry that it's impolite to talk about it.

But, there are only so many posts I can write about the day-in-day-out of job searching, interviews, about disappointment, about hope, about possible futures. I could keep writing those posts, but I fear then that all of my readers would tire of me. And since well over half of my readers are people I know and love, that would be unfortunate.

So here it is - the promised post about my current religious struggles. I haven't been particularly closed booked about this. Over the summer, I had some very distinct experiences that were . . . bigger than myself. And, if I'm being honest, I think there are forces at work in the life changes that I'm sorting through now too. I might not have made these changes on my own and man alive do I need these changes.

In the midst of having the distinct feeling that God was trying to get my attention, I found myself in some very heavy conversations in surprising places in my life. Conversations about why it's hard to trust God, or to ask God for things, or to hand over problems to whatever concept of higher power applies. I found myself in a bunch of conversations, hearing a bunch of stories, about doubts, about losing faith, and about why some of my friends had defined their beliefs the way they had. And all of this happened without my initiating it.

At the same time, my most inspiring friend and I had been having a lot of deep conversations about beliefs, experience, and how they're not always right. She invited me to go to church with her and, here's the surprising part, I did. And after some misgivings . . . I kept going.

Let me make sure to say this - there are so many things at that church I love. The music is, well, phenomenal. And the message there every day is simple - God is love. And people were made to carry out that love here. Love one another, and be merciful. After conversing with their staff some, I also know the heartfelt belief there is that we all make mistakes, and all mistakes are viewed equally, and are equally forgivable. Those are my values, and I talk that talk even when I cannot walk that walk. As a new friend said to me today, "Everyone has inconsistencies, its just a matter of how much data you have." I'm not exempt from that, and I want to believe that even when I do mess up, and even when I say one thing and do another, I can be worthy not only of forgiveness, but love.

And so when I was sitting in a chair, with someone who loved me and didn't judge me, listening to music that moved me, and hearing some of my values spoken . . . I was too intrigued not to keep going.

And. Andandand, it did help me reconsider my relationship with God, and even more, reconnect with it.

So, the first time I heard something there and wondered exactly was meant by it I let it roll off of me. And the second time, I asked some questions. But, recently, I heard some things that really caused me to have to walk away.

Just now, the church is talking a lot about how to help men become their best selves. Something that they've said, that I agree with, is it's important to take aim at men because when men choose to be irresponsible little boys (their words, NOT MINE) it wreaks havoc on families and societies. Now, to be clear, I would say that when women choose to be irresponsible jerks, terrible things happen too. The difference is, in almost all religions, women are held to a standard that is really, really unequal and assumes they are responsible for things they never chose for themselves. So, I appreciate an open, religious discussion about men upholding their part of the bargain.

Speaking of equality, the last service I went to was talking about men, and women, and why it can be tricky for men and women to join together. And a major theme was that men and women are different - emotionally, physically, mentally. I've written about this before. Men and women are NOT the same. And equality should be aimed at giving men and women equal opportunities to get what they need, not reducing the differences between them down to nothing.

The choices men and women make are, by definition, different. If I choose that I want children, I have to think about my personal, bodily health and if its possible for me to be pregnant, and then out of work. If I choose I don't want to give birth, then I have to consider if I want to raise children in other ways, or if I don't want them at all. If I make those choices, they are comments on my femininity and my beliefs. If men think about having kids its whether or not they're with someone and can do it, if they can support them. There are no medical or physical implications and few workplace consequences. And if they choose not to have kids then it's not a comment on them as men. And while this is a very polarizing and publicly discussed example, it's only one of the many ways that the genders are not the same in how choices, realities, biases, and needs play out.

What we need, what we want, what we benefit from are not always the SAME. So, I was completely with the minister as he discussed how men and women aren't the same. I was with him as he said that pretending that we are the same diminishes our capacity to be who we need to be to ourselves and each other.

Where he lost me was when he gave this quote:

“The tendency today is to stress the equality of men and women by minimizing the unique significance of our maleness or femaleness…. Confusion over the meaning of sexual personhood today is epidemic.The consequence of this confusion is not a free and happy harmony among gender-free persons …but more divorce, more homosexuality, more sexual abuse, more promiscuity, more social awkwardness, and more emotional distress and suicide that come with the loss of God-given identity.”  John Piper

Now, I hate to be a stickler, but, that's not from the Bible. It's a weird thing for me to be a stickler about, since clearly I look a lot of places other than the Bible. I would even say . . . I don't reach for the Bible for answers. It's not unheard of that I would get inspiration there but in general I believe that the Bible may be true . . . but our society may not be smart enough to understand it. So, I reach for . . . my experiences, the imaginings of others, sci-fi, and research, wikipedia and well, LOTS of things to get my information. I also hold people to high standards and one of them is that I expect a lot out of people in terms of doing what they say they will do. So, when I'm at a church where the Bible is held out as the authority on life, I kind of expect it to be treated that way.

I also take issue with the content of this statement, in a couple of different directions.

First, I have to say, I think I'm over people simplifying their concerns about homosexuality down to men being effeminate and women being masculine. It's tired, and doesn't at all describe the lesbians I know, or the gay men. Plus, it kind of leaves me in the cold as a bisexual.

I also have to say, I find this quote just really negatively dismissive. I really can't hold with equating homosexuality with divorce, suicide, and sexual abuse, under any umbrella - gender roles, illness, traumas that families face, none of 'em. From my perspective, if people or communities REACT to homosexuality by treating it as a trauma, illness, or sin, that's where the problem originates. Not the fact of someone NOT being straight.

I struggle with God because I'm a planner and when my plans get subverted I am thrown. But here's something I never struggle with - I don't think God makes mistakes. I didn't choose to be me, just like my friends who are gay didn't choose that. And in the realm of believing that God manifests, if as anything, as love here on earth, then I will not condemn my friends who have found love. Even if that love looks different in their houses than in mine.

My friends' marriages, be they legally recognized federally or not, are the marriages I look up to. And when I went to their weddings, one of which I was the best woman in, I did not take my promise to uphold their union lightly.

So, when that quote was given, I actually sat back in my chair. I felt almost as bad as if someone had slapped me. I take my loyalty to my friends and my beliefs so seriously that I almost had to stand up and leave. But, I also felt that it would be hurtful to the friend I was there with, and to the other people there. It made me nauseous to sit in that chair for the next 20 minutes.

So, I went away and sat with myself for a week. I went back and listened to the service online. And I . . . blush . . . prayed. A lot. I prayed about maintaining my beliefs with or without that community. I prayed for that minister because I know he didn't mean to be spreading hatred, but that statement wasn't loving. I prayed that I could have that conversation with my friend and have it be about beliefs and love and questioning, not about judgement.

And to me, that's a little bit of the crux of the problem right there - a year ago, it wouldn't have occurred to me to pray, though if pressed, I would have said I believed in God. But that pressing might have had to be pretty forceful if I'm being very honest. And six months ago I would not have needed to be pressed to admit my belief, but gun to my head wouldn't have resulted in anything resembling prayer. I knew God was there for me, but I was far too pissed and tied up in knots to say anything to God about it! (Ironic, I know)

So, it matters to me that the lesson I've learned at this church is that God is something I can feel and reach out to and that my faith can be in trouble but still be something that anchors me. I am trying to love that lesson, even if I can't love the church as a whole.

And I spent a week really wrestling with that. The problem is, there has never been and will probably never be a religious community that is an exact fit for me. I often get involved with other people's rituals, beliefs, and traditions as an outsider. And I'm fascinated. I love to learn and understand - not just from an academic standpoint, but in terms of what drives and holds together people I know. And somewhere along the way I begin to notice things that make me think about something, or feel something that I didn't before and think, "Hey, there's something here." and then I see or read or experience something and think, "Oh, no, not for me. Not a match." And I'm never sorry I saw or learned or experienced those things but it does mean that finding a place for me to practice my religious beliefs has never worked.

On the other hand, it means that somewhere inside there is a compass indicating what directions my beliefs point in.

But, they never land all in one place. This is partially because there is no church or worship community that holds communion as a celebration (preferably using tequila shots), nowhere I can be baptized in bacon, and hear testimony from a gay drag queen (this is to say, no lifestyle judgments in my church except for fashion . . . sometimes we all need a fashion reality check, let's face it). I want to celebrate how things are mysterious and powerful and beautiful with Mozart, with sacred music, but with Lady Gaga too. And, in the words of a friend quoting a book we both were moved by, no evangelizing. The 10 commandments are fine as they are, but there needs to be an 11th that says that interfering with any other ways of seeing or finding the divine is forbidden.

I'm not going to find that church (aka the Church of Our Lady Gaga). Doing shots of chilled Patron with lime wedges alone rules that out, not to mention drag queens. But the point is, I went to a church that helped me define that showing and sharing love, whether it's in prayer or in a book or in a dance party is what I am looking for. Do I throw the baby out with the bathwater because they point to a book I have some concerns with? There's a lot of literature I have concerns with.

For now it means I can love the lessons I learned there, but can't BE there because the love that has best shown me what love can and should be like is my friends, and those friends that are my families (sometimes more my family than other people's bio families). I am understood for my good and my bad and my ugly by those people, and loved anyways. I can learn about my connection to God at church, but I can't feel that love without my friends. And this isn't just about my fierce loyalty, it's also that if I stand at a wedding of two of my best friends and am part of supporting not just their marriage, but the day they held themselves out to the world as a married couple, I can't re-neg on that promise on my part. And, at least for now, that means I can't go to a church that I couldn't bring my family to.

But, in the meantime, I walk away with a clear image of God's metaphorical hand wrapped around all that we know, and the space in that for everyone to make their own choices, but for only the things that can be shaped for good to be allowed to enter into that space, to make it through the fingers of that hand. I can't see my time there as bad. (And the fervent hope that I can be a visitor in my friend's church, and that she will welcome that and not be hurt.) This is progress, for me, if not yet the place that sees God quite as expansively as I do.

faith vs. confidence

Dictionary definition: Faith - noun

1. confidence or trust in a person or thing: faith in another's ability.

2. belief that is not based on proof: He had faith that the hypothesis would be substantiated by fact.

3. belief in God or in the doctrines or teachings of religionr: the firm faith of the Pilgrims.

4. belief in anything, as a code of ethics, standards of merit, etc.: to be of the same faith with someone concerning honesty.

5. a system of religious belief: the Christian faith; the Jewish faith.

Dictionary Definition: Confidence - noun

1. a feeling of trust in a person or thing: I have confidence in his abilities 

2.  belief in one's own abilities; self-assurance 

3.  trust or a trustful relationship: take me into your confidence 

4.  something confided or entrusted; secret 

5. in confidence, as a secret


So, I went on a date last night. Let me just say that dating in general is pretty strange for me. And if you had asked me 5 years ago what dating would look like for me in my mid-30's I would have . . . well, first I would have shook my head, bewildered and thought, "Ummm, I won't be dating 5 years from now. I will be done with all of that by then." But I also wouldn't have predicted that dating in my mid-30's is surprising in that the things that were complicated when I was dating in my 20's have completely evaporated, and yet, there are things about being a real grown up that make dating really, really intriguingly not simple. I'm no longer running around drunk with a crew of friends, making out with inappropriate people, but I'm also subject to scrutiny on parts of my life that were never discussed in the dating situations I was in 5 years ago. It's pretty fascinating.

Add to it all that at this moment when I'm out being social, date or not, the typical getting-to-know you questions still apply. Someone always, always asks, "So, what do you do?" My first taste of this was at my annual New Year's gathering where a lovely new friend said, "So, what do you do?" and I leaned forward and slyly said," So glad you asked! I'm unemployed as of a week ago!" He's a smartie, that one, and said, "Let me re-phrase - what were you doing around Thanksgiving?" Chortle.

I have many potential answers to this question stored in my head. "I am currently a human resources specialist - my specialty is trying to find a match between my human resources and a job." " I am a professional interviewee." "I've gotten REALLY good at keeping up with my laundry." "I am a house-non-wife." "I work from home." In practice, I try not to be sarcastic. In this situation, that would make it seem as if I was spackling over some bitterness or fear, neither of which I feel too often. But, those answers all do run through my head when someone asks the inevitable, because I'm aware that there are assumptions about the unemployed that could be made. I don't necessarily assume that people are assuming those things about me and my unemployment, but I do know that there are people who might assume I got fired for cause, am lazy, did something wrong in order to be in this position, etc.

So, while on this date last night I found myself discussing my unemployment and trying not to sound too rainbows-and-butterflies while honestly saying how good it has been for me. He seemed to buy it so I was able to say, "You know, I have scary moments, but a lot fewer of them these days. I have a lot of faith that this was for a reason and that I'll be employed doing something interesting soon." He answered, commenting, "Is it that you have faith, or that you have confidence in your abilities being able to land you a job soon?" I could have taken that almost rhetorically, but because this life change has been so immense, so moving, and so eye-opening in areas of my life I couldn't have predicted as I was being let go on December 20th, it was important to me to say, "I do have confidence. But for me, right now, it really is that I have faith. I have a real feeling, with each interview, that I can see the picture of what is coming starting to form and that whatever it is is arriving soon."

My favorite explanation of faith actually comes from the Bible - go figure! I know! - which is not really usually my deal.

"faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1

I'm interested that in the dictionary definitions for both faith and confidence the words trust and belief are used. (As a linguist, I've often taught undergrads that when thinking about the dictionary in the brain, or the lexicon, it's not enough to consider only a word's definition, because all words are defined in terms of other words. It becomes circular very quickly. So, there's a lot of evidence that suggests that there is a LOT of other information filed in that internal database.) And I'm not that surprised that faith uses the word confidence to describe it.

I struggle with faith, as you all certainly know.

I have confidence or trust in people and things, as well as my own confidence in my abilities or the abilities of others. I have have confidence that if you give people enough time and opportunity, they will show you their good side. I believe that the sun will rise, and have confidence in it. I also know I have strengths and weaknesses, and that combined with my experience and education it means I am marketable and that I can join an organization and perform well. I have complete trust that I could make a successful survival plan to withstand a zombie apocalypse. But that's not it

I have a belief in God, if not always a strong grasp on particular teachings or doctrines of religion. But that's not it.

I do have a belief in a code of ethics and standard of ethics. I believe that people are more important than things, and that love is something you give and show, not just say or feel. I believe that morals and principles are nothing if actions are inconsistent with them. I believe that most, if not all, giving is not purely altruistic - I believe the giver is also getting something they need. And for me, that's because God designed it that way - that our emotions would reward us for caring for each other. So, for me, I also believe that ignoring suffering erodes that intended connection. I believe in being loyal, and honest, and having the courage of my convictions. I believe my learning these lessons, and others, is ongoing and lifelong. I believe that people (and by people I mean ME) are imperfect and make mistakes, and so I believe in forgiveness, even though this is an area I am especially imperfect in. But that's not it either.

I do not, as the 5th definition says, have a system of religious belief such as the Christian faith or the Jewish faith. (I know a lot about both, and some other faiths and traditions and practices for good measure, but finding the right fit for me has never been about how much I know. I'm still wrestling with this one - stick a pin in it because it's coming soon to this blog!) So, that is definitely not it.

Closest to what I feel is the definition in number 2 - belief that is not based on proof. But that seems so . . . clinical and incomplete. I have a belief that is the substance of things hoped for, and and the evidence of things not seen. My faith is somehow the proof that things are happening the way they are supposed to. It wasn't my plan to be single and unemployed, all at once. (It was within a month of each other, not 5 minutes, but to me, it felt that way). It also doesn't seem like an accident to me. If it hadn't happened that way, I wouldn't have made those changes. It's like . . . I needed the rug ripped out from underneath me in order to see how nice the floor was without it.

I am not someone who often talks about or recognizes faith. We're not close friends, faith and I and are often wary with one another. So, the fact of my unwavering faith right now is the proof I need that something good is happening here.

I am someone who usually fights so hard with self-blame, guilt, and beating myself up. And what that often, too often, translates into is that I hold onto things for too long. And I make myself miserable with it. So, it also doesn't feel like coincidence to me that so very quickly I was able to see my breakup and my job loss as positives. I'm not saying I haven't worked hard to take ownership of moving on, and I won't ever discount the help I've gotten from my friends, but I also can't deny that it's not NORMAL for potentially difficult things to make me . . . happy.

So, I have confidence, I have belief, and I have help, all of which I'm grateful for, but I also have faith that things are happening according to plan, even if it's not mine.

ATM Fraud

That's right. Today, I planned to divide my time very carefully into quarters with one-fourth devoted to submitting applications, one fourth to finishing up my self-training on MS Project 2010, one fourth to my interview and interview prep, and the remaining quarter to pounding out a run on a treadmill or roadside. (Cardio has ceased to be something I purely loath. I still don't like it. That may never change. But, I'm getting better at it, and that helps. Also, I am in a co-dependent relationship with it right now. Cardio needs me to get it done, so I can lose weight and look my trainer and cardio partner in the eye. I need it to help my brain from feeling like it could explode from the effort of staying positive in the face of all this uncertainty. So, we'll stick a pin in that and write another of my many posts about cardio another day.) That was my plan. And y'all know how much I like a plan.

Well, last night, while I was pounding out some cardio, and smashing my weight lifting workout in fact, apparently my ATM number was in Yuma. And this morning while I was sleeping (biding my time until I could call the fraud line at my bank) that same card was turned down in Austin to buy gas. Weeeeeee!

I've been the victim of fraud and identity theft before. And my experience getting that dealt with (once the conveniently placed long weekend in which I watched weird check amounts being cashed and wandering out of my account helplessly was over) was pretty good. The money I needed to buy my books and pay my insurance and rent was back in 5 days, and I had a new account set up pronto. I had three days of watching money walk away, and practicing deep breathing. They caught those people and uncovered their scam (pretty elaborate, as it turned out, but not very well executed) and I had the opportunity to write something about my experience as the "victim" (HATE that word) of this crime maybe a year later. I had food in the house, so while I couldn't go out with my friends that weekend, and had some stress since I was a poor graduate student at the end of a long month of no paycheck, I wasn't going hungry. And ultimately damage repaired.

So, when I saw money being spent a couple of states away I assumed that if fraud had gotten more tricksy, that fraud response had improved as well. And I was right! My card was shut down last night, which means THEIR copycat card was shut down too. Sorry, guys, no gas for you in Austin. And this morning, I called the number, got my instructions and an order for a new card placed. But, I also had to go to my branch and get a temporary card. Of course, it can't do everything a real one can, alas. But I can buy groceries until the new one comes, and my account is safe. Whew.

Day briefly derailed, money safe and plenty of time for me to go about getting ready for my interview.

What does this have to do with anything, right? We all go through this unless we live like conspiracy theorists. I mean, that's sadly probably true. I got some scary statistics from talking to the bank. In 2009 nearly 5% of the population had to deal with this, and spend, on average, 21 hours and $300 plus dollars resolving the crime. That was 2009! I would be eye-balls-popping shocked if those numbers hadn't gone up in the last 2 years. Lightening struck twice for me, so I asked my new banker friend if there was any way to find out how this happened. Since I know where my card is at all times, and have the right protections on my account, it mystified me. He told me that since my data wasn't leaked anywhere that placed me on a known-concerns list, this was probably a completely unpreventable occurrence. My card was probably picked up by a scanner when I bought gas or used an ATM last weekend. No way to know it. Am I supposed to stop using my ATM card? Suspiciously interrogate everyone who gets me a latte or beer? No.

What I've been thinking about for the last day is that even as recently as  a year ago, this issue would have enraged me. And not having a person to be angry at specifically and feeling helpless would have lead me to turn this fury on the world. I would've and been pissy with everyone from the desk clerk at my gym, to my friends, just because I allowed it to permeate my world for several days. I'm not someone who will tell you that anger is a completely "useless emotion." I think there is healthy anger. I think there are cases where anger can spur people on and lead to determination, motivation, and purging of old hurts. What I am going to tell you is that for me, anger is most often not healthy and instead of leading to motivation or something positive, leads to being short, unpleasant, and unable to be happy about much of anything for days.

When I'm genuinely angry and hurt, I often don't process it right away. Somewhere a long the way I learned that I was deeply alone. And I was for awhile. And even when I wasn't, there was a longer period of time where it wasn't safe or comfortable for me to have my feelings out loud. So, for me, anger turns inward. It is a dark and twisty spiral and it has spikes. It lays in wait, and sets a bomb wrapped in barbed wire. And what happens then is, I take this bomb, and quietly lay it on a shelf. For days or weeks or hours or years, and then I detonate it when I'm all alone. It sounds noble, as though I'm saving others, but it isn't. It actually serves to hurt more people because the bomb goes off at a time and in a way in which I cannot deal with it in a healthy, non-destructive way. The bomb can't be defused. It has to GO OFF and leave emotional shrapnel. And I spend the following days and weeks feeling the after-shock, and passing it on to innocent bystanders, or worse, going back to the person who accidentally hurt me long past the time in which they remember what happened and setting a bomb for them. It's awful.

So, I could be angry that my plan was derailed and I lost time. I could be angry that doing something completely normal like going to an ATM or getting a box of tampons may have set this theft in motion. I could, but who would I be angry with? I guess I could be angry with whomever thought it was a good idea to take my info and run off to Yuma (Really?! Yuma?!) but, I don't know them. I don't know why or how they did this. Maybe they're in a desperate situation. Maybe they have a sad story. Or maybe they don't. Either way, being angry at them, attaches me to them, and forces my brain to think about how and why this happens. And fraud prevention services told me that this is probably a lost cause - it is probably not possible to track exactly how and when this happens. Why would I attach myself to a lost cause? (I say this like I'm all wise and strong, but this is just EXACTLY what I've done in the past.)

This is like the 6th time in the last month that I've been presented with this lesson. There's a doozy of an example here - ahem, losing my job. A number of people have suggested I explore my anger at my former employer, or even seek legal counsel. But if I did either, that would keep me attached to them for a long, long time. And guess what, I already had more than enough time stewing over anger with them when I was employed with them! For me, anger would do nothing but feed the unhealthy connection I had with that organization. It would lead to . . . nothing but more anger and judgement. That is the very definition of empty calories in my life.

So, look at me, I'm growing. With this fraud, I was curious, I was focused on what I needed to do to rectify the situation, I was open to hearing anything I could do to prevent this in the future. But I wasn't angry. I didn't waste time on that, because I really needed to get back to my carefully orchestrated day. (And i was hoping I could finish up at the bank in time to get a cup of coffee) The banker was all," I'm so sorry this happened, and took your time." Well, ok, but I didn't have to spend 21 hours, or $300 plus dollars. I spent 2 hours, thus far, and have some minor ATM card inconvenience for a week. So, I responded, "Well, this has all been handled really quickly and professionally so I'm satisfied this will be completely ok very soon!"

The lesson I'm trying to learn here, and have been hit over the head with for the last month, is that LOVE PROVIDES AND PROTECTS. I heard that last weekend. Yes, I heard it at church. And so my minister's point was that God's love is without boundaries and unending, and will give you what you need. I struggle with that, and I also have friends who don't believe in God or that kind of God. But I think the application is relevant to the me that wants to believe in that God, and the me that often questions that. (So, I hope it applies to my friends who aren't in that relationship with God too.)

Whether or not you believe God helped me deal with my identity theft, or is walking with me in my job search (which is much more than just hide-and-seek-find-a-job but really me seeking a better life than I had), the reality is, I have been very loved and protected in all of this. My bank protected my account, and quickly. My friends' love has provided for me over and over and over. And over. I have been provided with help understanding my options, the offer of a place to stay if needed, lunches and dinners out with people I love celebrating my "freedom", the offer of help for my healthcare costs, personal training, some part time job offers, introductions to helpful people to network with, supportive rally cries by phone, mail, text, and FB message, help getting my resume together, help getting my resume out there, editing of my cover letter template, people asking to be my referrences, company as I work out my demons by sweating out some cardio, and just so many hugs, high fives, "atta girls" in person and at a distance that I've lost count. I had someone who I met and worked with for every bit of three days and who no longer works with my former employer look me up so that she could reach out to me, ask if I was alright, and if I needed help getting my resume into the hands of an educational company.

I am loved. Whether you think that love comes from God through people, or from people who are awesomely loving and giving, and who I have the amazing good fortune to have in my life, the bottom line is that I am loved. (I think both. Because the God I know gives people the complete freedom to have the morality of frog spit, or to be loving, kind, and generous.) And that love has provided and protected me.

If I needed any further proof of this I would need only to look at this:

In case you're wondering, that's love sitting on my kitchen table cut into the shape of beautiful flowers. I am loved.

(Have you ever gotten one of these Edible Arrangements? They are the bomb. I love getting flowers, and I love getting candy, and this is like both rolled into one, only most of it is healthy. Wow. Luck has nothing to do with it. I am loved.)

And focusing on that, instead of anger, has garnered me the chance to interview for 3 part-time positions, and 4 interviews for full-time positions. I don't want to pat myself on the back too much here, but I'm a little proud that I haven't spent my time stewing and dreaming up evil plots and dealing with a bomb and the ensuing emotional shrapnel. I'm proud that I've taken the time to reflect that it's ok for people to love me and help me. I'm proud that I'm putting my energy into the right place. Also, I really liked that fruit.

Joy cometh in the morning

Every morning I get up and I look at this website. I check to see if the blogs I'm following have new posts, and I check my page views. Wanna hear something funny? The posts y'all like the best are talking about my breakup with the post about my not being sure if my boyfriend and I had had taken a break or had broken up being a close second. Readers like break-ups, apparently, but I must say, I'm going to try really hard not to do it again . . . even if it means 60 page views in 36 hours.

I'm hoping that if you all read my break-ups you guys will also read about a relationship I'm still working on. My relationship with God. (I'm wincing because I sooooo don't want to proselytize. I want to share the conversation I've been having, much like I've shared other things in my life here.)

I've been going to church with a friend this fall, off and on. I go for a couple of reasons. One is that my friend loves, loves, loves her church, and since she is one of the most inside-and-out beautiful people I know (there are days that she glows, for serious) I thought it was worth a try. Describing her is inevitably going to sound cheesy, and that's a shame, because she should be giving motivational talks. She is sincerely inspiring with NO CHEESE involved. It's really an amazing gift she has. She also has shared some really important things in my life, so I wanted to share something important to her. She is the same friend I swim with, and when I first went to church with her, the series of services was all on WATER. It seemed perfect since she and I had been having a lot of deep talks about letting the water hold her up, and learning to trust the water.

I also went because I was curious. Let's face it, going to a church that holds thousands of people is an experience! (Oh, and it WAS! There is a lot of energy, the music is phenomenal, and their main pastor is perhaps the best speaker I've heard live, ever, anywhere.)

But mostly I went because God and I have been fighting for a few years. It wasn't always this way. Sure, I told my mom when I was 13 that if getting confirmed in our Episcopal church meant that I wanted to be part of that community, and liked those people, I would do it. But hey, wait, getting confirmed means something to them that it doesn't mean to me - so it would be wrong, because I don't have the J.C. feeling. But I still believed in something, even then.

I said that then, and I still do, have a lot of doubts about Jesus. Historically, there's not a lot to support it and as much as I'm an emotional person (an ENFJ as a matter of fact, on almost every test) I also analyze and think my way through my world a lot. There's enough to support that he was a man, and that he was here, and sincerely, I think his teachings were pretty radical, and if I'm being honest, I agree with them! I think things would be better if we were all more loving and accepting and unselfish and we took it as our responsibility to take care for one another and to show compassion and support for our neighbors, our brothers, the weak and sick and orphaned among us. Most importantly, if we could all learn to judge others a little less, and to leave that to the side, that would be huge. I have had tiny tastes of discrimination in my life, and the feeling of being judged before I had any time to prove myself, the feeling of being suspected, disliked just for who or what I am is enough for me to be certain that it is one of life's wrongs. Let me be clear, I think it's ok to draw a line and say, "This is not ok." It's not ok for someone to abuse their children. It's not ok for someone to drive drunk. But I know people who have done those things. And guess what? They aren't bad people, just struggling. There are stories about how they got to those points. I don't have to condone their actions (and I don't!), but I can still refrain from judging them head-to-toe. The world would be a better place if we all could stop scrutinizing each other all the time.

So, I'd be lying if I said I didn't think Jesus was right about a LOT. Sure, people use his name for horrible things, but  that's kind of like identity theft. I shouldn't take responsibility for someone stealing my credit card and using my name to go to a sleazy strip club, but similarly, we shouldn't saddle J.C. for the wars fought in his name, for the people tortured, killed, or run down. That's us as a species screwing up and hurting each other, not him.

I think the bigger issue for me is that if someone today said "I am without sin, sent here from God to save you all," we would swerve off that sidewalk really quick! We would commit that person! And it's an issue for me that so much of the Christian faith and traditions were adopted from other faiths and traditions in order to try and keep people comfortable as they moved into this new faith. Aaaand, it's a bit difficult for me to swallow that it was the First Council of Nicaea that voted on his divinity. Before they took that vote, he was known as just a man. A man that taught what he taught, thought he was God's son, and a man who got murdered in a particularly politically driven and craven way - but yes, a man. And people get things wrong. The vote could be wrong, the people who thought he was just a man could be wrong but it's impossible to know. So, me and my brain look at Jesus, who had other people write about him and didn't write his own book, and I understand that the key here is to take it on faith. And I have a big heart, and a big brain, but nothing left over to put towards that faith.

And that's been ok for me, because I know I do believe in things. I believe in God and big forces at work. I believe I am loved more by my friends than most people are loved by their families. I believe that there is a pattern and a structure to how things unfold. I believe that things happen for a reason more often than not. I believe that my friends that don't believe in God and work to be good people every day are just as good, maybe even better than my friends that do believe in some kind of God - they're doing it just because it's the right thing to do, not because they are worried about their sin-tally. I believe that love is worth fighting for, and it can change things. I believe that laughter is the best medicine. I believe that our challenges can also be our lessons. I believe that believing in things matters.

But, God and I have been struggling for awhile. Like I said, it wasn't always this way. I rarely felt anything in church growing up, but after we left the church, I continued to reach out for God. I went to other churches, and I read a LOT. I read the Bible, cover to cover. I read the Torah and parts of the Koran. I read about earth based Goddess religions and Norse magic. I read Greek Mythology. I even read Tao of Pooh for good measure. And I didn't find answers, just more questions. And so maybe the key there is again that it's not about getting it intellectually, but I can't stop myself from wanting that!

Still, there was a point at which God and I were ok with each other. I saw God as a big force that brought people together the way that they needed to be, and I was totally, thoroughly, completely fine with that vague picture. I went to Quaker meetings (despite my family poking fun at me by saying they were sure I couldn't sit quietly for an hour). I made the very firm decision to be involved with that group but not to become a "member" because again, it would mean I was saying I believed in J.C. on some level and I wanted to be honest. I sat at my friends' Shabbat table and piece by piece learned the holidays, traditions, beliefs, an questions of an observant Jew. I was re-exposed to the Torah in a way that brought it alive, and I joined in to the discussions and questions of the Talmud. I came to so many holidays that I ended up having specific jobs and contributions for Passover and Sukkout. I took long walks and while formal praying felt weird to me, I sent messages to God. One very hard month I remember asking him every day for strength, patience, and the conviction to do what was right. When that situation passed I wanted to keep talking to God, so I started sharing all the things I was grateful for. I was able to pray at the Shabbat table with an open heart, and to sit at my Quaker meetings and just be and feel God near and feel assured there was a way things were supposed to be, and that if I wasn't ok with everything every day, that was all part of a bigger pattern I was woven into.

Then a lot of things happened. I moved here. I moved here for love, and the bottom dropped out of that. I moved here and found myself so alone that there was no reconciling how I got here. I picked myself up, and I'm glad to be here now, but whatever fragile thread connecting me to an idea that things happen for the good was severed. Right around the time that I found myself wanting to think about maybe picking up my end of that thread again I started dating someone who is blessed with a complete and total faith, and a specific belief in Jesus. Initially, it was a hard subject for us to discuss so I dropped that thread all over again.

But, a funny thing happened. The best way I can describe it was feeling like God or something started to try and track me down. I started finding myself in all kinds of deep conversations with my best, best friend about religion and science and God. Then, I went to an Al-Anon meeting thinking, "I am surrounded by addicts, maybe they have some thoughts I could use." Right on the heels of that I thought, "I really hope they don't spend all of their time talking about the Higher Power. Ugh. I so don't want that right now." And guess what? My first, second, and third meeting were all about the Higher Power, but in a funny twist it was all people sharing their doubts about God and Higher Powers, about how hard it is to trust God with important things, and about how they sometimes have to "fake it" and pretend to hand things over to a Higher Power because otherwise they go crazy trying to solve unsolvable things.

Riiiing, ring! Phone for you Christie.

I was laughing inside as I cried on the outside, took a tissue and said, "I'm mad at God. Because I'm surrounded by people with problems who won't go get help, so I have to come here. And it sucks. Like, why should it be true that I can have two beers and stop, and they can't. Why them and not me. But then, also, why should I have to be the one who deals with it when they won't?" I said other things, but they weren't very nice things, so I'll leave them in that room. You get the idea.

So, when I went to church with my friend and the whole service was about how love can be deep like water, and go on forever like an ocean, and also be like a rolling river of justice and mercy and compassion . . . yup, it caught my attention. The call went out for contributions to a local shelter and because I believe in love and giving back and showing compassion (It physically hurts me to drive by a homeless person with a sign and not give them anything. I know the reasons not to, and I don't always have a dollar or a granola bar on me, but it tugs at me). So, I bought two very full bags worth of stuff and brought it back. I bought one of everything on the list, and more than one of many things. I did it because it felt good to do something concrete to help someone, because at the time, my problems were too big to be solved by a shopping trip to Target but someone elses problems could be ministered to by pasta and peanut butter and baby formula. I was curious to see how everyone else responded . . . well, if you read that entry they responded with 224 THOUSAND POUNDS. It's hard not to be impressed with that.

I took a break then, sat back on my heels thinking, "If this is what a community of church-goers who really believe can do, maybe it's not such a bad thing," but also thinking,"I don't know if I belong there or want to." I love my friend, I love what the power of that group can and did do, and I want to talk to God more, but there is more Jesus-talk there than I knew what to do with . . . see above. But I've found myself presented with messages several times over in the last few weeks that God would really like it if I stayed in touch more, so I'm trying. I'm trying to have a conversation, but it's a hard one. And I'm angry and bitter a lot.

Me: Hey. I know it's been awhile.

God: That's ok, I'm pretty patient

Me: Things have been pretty difficult lately, and I know that's when everyone else asks you for things, but I don't know how to.

God: What stops you?

Me: I think you probably have more important things to do. I mean, I have a roof over my head,  a paycheck, an education. I'm probably not at the top of the list right now.

God: I don't play favorites. Prioritizing is a human thing, not a heaven thing.

Me: Yeah, ok, but you also let things happen that suck. Big things. Like the Holocaust and genocide and wars and child abuse. So, it's hard for me to believe that you give a rat's ass about my concerns about all the addicts in my life, about the demons I'm facing down myself, about the addict I love that may never love me more than he loves his drug and may always resent me for trying to help him. Who broke up with me "because he loves me." Yeah, right.

God: It's tough for me to answer that, because that's about your anger and hurt more than it is about anything else.

Me: So, just tell me then why horrible, horrible things happen in the world. Use the Holocaust or Trail of Tears as an example.

God: I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. Literally. Because it will make more sense when you can see the big picture in heaven.

Me: Ok, well that feels worse and more unsatisfying than when Alanis Morissette tweaked the nose of the person asking "Why are we here" in Dogma. Let's say this. Let's say, for the sake of argument, I believe J.C. was your only son. People not only tortured and killed him, they now use his name to justify discrimination, hatred, violence against people who don't share their beliefs, and fundraising for the SAME! And you let it happen.

God: I have to let my children make mistakes in order to learn.

What?!

This is where I get pissed off all over again.

So, when I sat in church last week learning about Psalm 30, I thought, wouldn't it be nice if there was a way for God to actually meet me in my weakness. I edited out the part where the pastor said, "Jesus carries your cry to God and turns it into something holy" and just made it "general God" but I thought . . . wouldn't it be nice.

"I will extol thee, O Lord; for thou hast lifted me up, and hast not made my foes to rejoice over me.
O Lord my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me.
O Lord, thou hast brought up my soul from the grave: thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit.
Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness.
For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favor is life; weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." Psalm 30

It's been a few mornings, and there hasn't been any joy. Maybe it's metaphorical. Maybe it takes more wholeheartedly praying, and doing it without doubt. Maybe it takes something I lack. Or maybe God and I are still arguing.