While watching my kids in the park the other day, another mom from school (I’d met in passing) joined me. I knew this lady at the level of ‘PTA small talk’, or Can You Believe It’s Almost Summer?! witticisms.
Instead, she began one of those conversations that has JESUS SAVES embroidered around the edges of every comment. You know – testing the water by splicing God into an otherwise secular topic. Sometimes people like this are just really psyched on God, and I figured there was half a chance I could get through the conversation with her Ned Flandering it up, but without things moving into salesmanship. So I gave her a noncommittal smile.
That was probably a mistake. Her hints about God amped into a full-on recruitment. I could see her coming about three amps away.
She reminded me of a painfully pubescent boy gearing up to ask his first crush out – glowing with jittery excitement, speech pressured, the awkward transition from casual chit-chat into pre-canned speech. I didn’t stop her because it was so cringey but also so brave, and you could tell her heart was on the line, that this pseudo-culty speech was her moment of bravery.
And it’s crazy, but I thought, maybe this is a sign.*
The thing I hate about signs is talking about them sounds so fucking crazy. But there it is: I have been so mad at God since Little’s stillbirth, and it has only been recently that I’ve wondered whether to go atheist or try to pick up the pieces and sort them out. I mean, I was pretty full on Fuck Off God subdivision of Atheist from Christmas to Easter. But as Little said to me, “I mean, God and I are done. Except when I realize something bad could happen to my husband, and I still have stuff to lose. Then I tell God we are mostly done. But if He hurts anyone else, we are TOTALLY DONE. And then I hate that I’m forced into making some sort of peace with Him.”
For me too, (especially lately), my anger is riddled with self doubt. Maybe I am Godding wrong, if I ditch Him because this bad thing happened. I mean, isn’t the majority of the Bible stories about bad shit happening to people who still find a way to love God? Isn’t the moral of large swaths of the Bible, YOU ARE BEING TESTED. KEEP YOUR FAITH.
(PS: What kind of sadist kills kids to test whether you love him? I cannot wrap my brain around the logic that I’m supposed to find my way back to staying friends with this asshole.)
But still, lately I’ve had the notion that maybe it’s on me to start figuring out how to re-believe in God and accept what happened. Or at least come to terms with my need to believe The Universe has mystical design that looks out for me.
Anyway, you can see how I was kind of ripe for this park interaction, ham-handed as it was. Plus, I don’t generally get targeted for proselytization. It seemed sign-y. Like God wanted me back.
She was halfway through her praise of my mothering skills and the nudge that surely I love my children as Jesus loves us all, right? When I laughed. “God and I are on a trial separation right now.”
I don’t know what I was expecting.
She noped the hell out of there. It was kind of amazing: not another word, and then she rabbited away!
My friend, K, laughed at this story – “Wish I could come up with that kind of smart assed reply!” she announced. “I never say anything and they talk forever!”
Hearing K laugh made me feel belatedly proud of myself to be seen as bad assed. But in the moment, I didn’t mean it badassed. I meant it honest. It kind of baffles me that the woman who’d been so into God was fully unprepared for someone mad at God. Surely I am not the only one? Surely they cover this option in whatever conversion seminar the woman had to take before selling God to strangers in the park?
Or maybe it was a sign. Just not the one I expected.
* Sometimes I talk about signs. Here’s a link to the last time (also includes Little’s stillbirth stuff, watch out). Here’s another time. (ETA fixed that last link!)
You were being honest.
You might remember that my husband has ALS and is very religious, although this has tested his faith to an extreme. A friend of his from his church commended my own “courage” as caregiver, saying that the question “Why this suffering?” can either draw us closer to God or drive us away. Her question was a gently probe for a testimonial from me, I thought, so I told her, honestly, that I am not in denial but numb, feel like it’s a bad dream, and simply know that I have the choice to run away or step up to the plate, unless I fall apart and melt down.
I sent her one of my favorite poems.
[Emily Dickinson]
After great pain a formal feeling comes–
The nerves sit ceremonious like tombs;
The stiff Heart questions–was it He that bore?
And yesterday–or centuries before?
The feet, mechanical, go round
A wooden way
Of ground, or air, or ought,
Regardless grown,
A quartz contentment, like a stone.
This is the hour of lead
Remembered if outlived,
As freezing persons recollect the snow–
First chill, then stupor, then the letting go.
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The speaker asks a question about Christ (“He”), who symbolizes agony and is the ultimate suffering human being, and seems confused about whether the crucifixion was hers or Christ’s or whether the agony of the crucifixion is hers or Christ’s.
I don’t think I’m any closer than you are to wondering whether this matters to me or not. I’m not sure that God is an entity that “cares” about me in a specific way. About all the religion that I have is that I don’t think things happen as “punishments” from God. That’s a dangerous route. I’m a little less sure about karma and the idea that “what goes around comes around.” I’m most comfortable thinking about what was before the “Big Bang” — that there is a reality far beyond our explication at this point. It terrifies some people but makes me feel better. Yours in loving glitter and negative capability. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Negative_capability
I’m right there with you. I used to regularly attend church with my entire family and through a few horrible life events and a lot of thought my husband and I stopped going. I’ve since drifted pretty far away from it all. The other day I made a sort of “haha God, YEAH RIGHT” comment only to see my husband and kids staring at me. Turns out I’m the only one who’s fallen totally out, they all just liked having Sunday mornings free.
Now I feel oddly alone, pretty certain I can’t just jump back in even if I wanted to (which I don’t). I think it would feel a bit like getting back together with an ex just because he’s a really nice guy even though you don’t have those feelings and now seeing him just makes you kind of nauseous and claustrophobic.
I see people who are super religious and I really do envy them. They’re all so madly in love with it and it seems like such a source of strength and comfort but I just feel nada about it anymore. Especially the fact that so many people seem to really have a hard time discussing it with others who disagree or don’t understand, beyond the whole “I’ll pray for you” line. But yeah…I feel oddly separate now in my agnosticism. I’ll make some room in the boat.
I was raised an atheist and never felt any kind of God Absence and am not mad at anyone besides fucking assholes and fucking shitty situations happen for no reason sometimes so I dunno.
My mom and I joke a lot that we’re missing the “God Chip” in our brains. Like we’re not pissed at anyone or searching for a thing. Like that part of our brains simply does not operate. I think about religion and it’s just….meh. Whatever. I’ve never had a come to or run away from jesus moment, ever in my life, and it’s just a bit odd when I compare that to the experiences of others.
Whether or not you believe in God, my opinion is that all religions boil down to try to be a good person and don’t hurt other people. My big issue with religion is how they treat women. Can you name one major religion that has ever had a woman as the head, or even on the panel of senior advisors? I was raised Catholic, and it makes me so angry that they excommunicate priests who ordain women, but not pedophile priests.
Plus I think “religious” people are the most hypocritical people out there. My mother gives me grief for not taking my daughter to church or having her read the Bible, but my mother has a problem with me letting my stepmother stay with me for two months while she is undergoing radiation for cancer. What would Jesus do?
If there’s a god then we are in a non-deity relationship – as in, I don’t get to *ask* for stuff when I am feeling weak but then be all bitchy when I *think* all is well. Sometimes we talk — because s/he’s a quiet listener — not sure *good* as I don’t get feedback, but, you know, when I talk with god it’s because I just need an ear. It is painful to feel alone in this thing called life – but I don’t have to feel let down *anymore* when things don’t go as planned. I don’t think that counts as atheist — I like Jesus, bet he was a cool guy and all. I think we would have been friends if we lived in the same time period. If he comes back I think I am likely to be his friend – and *recognize* him walking down the street. So, I guess my answer would have been, god and I are in a platonic, open relationship … bet that would have also made her runaway!
That is a freaky-ass sign and what the hell is wrong with this lady that she’s not prepared to talk to someone who’s struggling with a more traditional view of God?! I thought that was basically what people like her are supposed to do, to support and encourage and get you into the church so you can have a dialogue with God and with people there and sort things out? Or something?!
/headscratch
There HAVE to be others in her church who are struggling, for whatever reason. Have to be. I (will never understand but) am glad about those who can go through shitty times and can just RELY on God, but surely even if those are the majority, there are others.
I am so bemused by that, wow.
I actually grew up very heavily in a church in my country, because my dad is a minister of it. Went to church every Sunday, knew lots of church families, the whole shebang. However, my mother was an atheist, and my dad’s always been massively inclusive of other religions (he’s done a LOT of work for international bodies like the World Council of Churches). So while it was sort of automatic that I’d be part of Dad’s church, it sure wasn’t demanded of me that I’d unthinkingly go along with their view on God and free will and why people are allowed to suffer.
Related, a few years ago, I went to a funeral service for a baby. I’m gonna put a bit more info in between rows of ******s, so Anne if you’re feeling sensitive, please skip. Same for anyone else who might read this. Not putting any detail about how the baby died, just about how people reacted.
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Catholic service. It was awful. Friends of friends for me, so I didn’t really know the family, I wasn’t specifically affected in that way, but obviously you can’t look at a family who’ve lost a BABY and not feel awful for them.
One of the most awful things, to me, was how they all seemed to take comfort from the view that God has a plan, God called this baby home to him, etc. etc. I… WANT to support people in this, because I know that what comforts me isn’t necessarily what comforts others, and hey, different strokes for different folks, right?
But I really fucking struggle with this concept. I don’t want to feel like any God of mine has a plan for us that involves babies dying. I can cope with the idea of a God who can’t control this and grieves with us. I can’t cope with the idea of a God who would have this kind of pain for anyone as part of his plan.
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(part about babies is over)
I think that it is very natural and understandable to be questioning your relationship with God right now, and I hope you are able to arrive at some satisfactory conclusions. I feel for you.
I have struggled a lot with the “why does He let bad things happen” question over the years.
I woke up one day with the words “with, not above” rattling through my brain. That’s been my answer for a while. That the god/God I choose to believe in, choose to feel, cares about us a great deal, hurts with us, supports us, and is not omnipotent in that way.
I wish you well in finding the right answer for you. Not easy, gah.
I believe that trials come to us for a multitude of reasons… Some ARE, in fact, trials sent by Father to test us. A refiner’s fire, if you will. Some come as natural consequences for our own selfishness, willfulness and/or stupidity. Some come because this is mortality and it is just messy and hurty and things break. Some are sent by the adversary to mess with us and a hellish amount of trials come because Father will not infringe upon His children’s agency even when we choose evil.
What’s the point in having an ability to choose if Deity is constantly stepping in and saying “oh, except you can’t choose THAT!” like some over protective parent who only pretends they are going to let their child pick for themselves.
All I can think is that pain and heartache just mean something different once we can see them from an eternal perspective. That’s the only thing that rings true to me right now.