Friendship is Precious

Sometimes the beauty of friendship amazes me.

I have a good friend who belongs to the church I've left. I wanted to tell her personally of my decision so we went out to grab a beer and a bite to eat. Her mother passed away earlier this summer and she's still been struggling with that loss. We talked a bit about how she felt she was finally coping with the lose and ready to "rejoin" society. We talked about her sons, school, and life in general before broaching the subject of why we we're really there.

As much as I wanted to just be strong and tell her straight out, I couldn't. Tears formed, my throat tightened and speaking was nearly impossible. After a moment to compose myself, I told her what was going on. To my complete amazement, she understood and sympathized.

More importantly, she said that it didn't matter to her if I wasn't going to go to church anymore, she would always be my friend.  I was stunned. Part of the church doctrine is strictly shunning those who no longer attend.

My best friend told me that "those who matter won't care and those who care, don't matter." How true those words have proven to be.  I am truly blessed.  I also have to say, after stressing over this for so long, I have never felt lighter and more at peace with myself.

Delivering Bad News

How do you break someone's heart?

I mean, knowingly sit them down and give them information that will crush them?

I never gave the Ex's feelings a single thought when I kicked him out. The only thought was the safety of my children and myself. When his actions persisted, it destroyed any remaining desire for reconciliation. I moved on. I had to. I can't say the same for him. Nearly two years later, as our divorce finally nears completion, he still professes his love. I'm sorry he still feels that way. I don't, however, feel any guilt over it. Not one iota.

Not the same for this other situation. After thirty some odd years on this earth, I've decided to make yet another big change in my life. I'm moving away from the church and the way my parents raised me. All their effort and desires are going to be for naught because I'm walking away from it all.

I imagine this might be a little how gays and lesbians feel. The burning desire to be who you are coupled with the fear of hurting those you love in the process.

This has been eating at me for a long time. This trying to make the right decision. I'm still not fully convinced its the right thing to do.  I did stop and ask myself, "could you walk away from the potential you see in your future, and stay on the expected path. Could you live with yourself?"

My answer was yes. Yes, I could continue to live the life I am expected to live. I could continue to raise my children as I was raised. I could live a lie, and I would be absolutely miserable.

The next question was, "can you live with the fallout?"  The fallout being the likelihood that I'm going to be disowned. The fallout of knowing I've once again disappointed my parents.

I've thought long and hard about this, and I don't know. I also don't know for certain what the fallout will be. My parents could react differently than I expect them to (unlikely) or they could react exactly like I expect them to, but later with more thought and reflection, they may decide that my decision wasn't the end of the world they expected.

Having come to the decision that I'm going to quit "hiding", the question is how to tell them. On one hand I'd like to give them a well thought out letter. Something that allows me to explain what I'm doing without the emotional drama of tears and yelling. Something that allows time for thoughtful reflection on exactly what I'm telling them.

On the other hand, do they have the right to hear it straight from me? To have their moment of pain, grief and lashing out?

I don't know which is right. I've been in situations where I would've liked the letter and the opportunity to compose myself that it enabled.  I've also been confronted with situations where a letter is not good enough. I want to look into the person's eyes and see their body language while they give me bad news.

Thoughts?

P.S. My mom called the other night. She said I didn't seem myself lately and she wanted to know if she could help me in any way. This is going to be so much harder than I thought. :(

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked, Part 2

As long as I'm on my high horse of confusion, allow me to continue this line of thought. If the bible is just a good book and nothing in it about Armageddon and the end of the world is true, then what will be done about the oppression in the world? Are the people who live on other continents lesser humans somehow? I've said it before and I'll say it again, I do not believe I am entitled. I believe I live in America based on luck. I could have just as easily been born in Ireland or the Philippines or any other country rife with oppression, fighting and poverty.

My parents live in an agricultural area. Many of the fields around them are empty. Why? The government is paying the farmers not to plant crops. There is a famine in Somalia and these fields sit empty. I'm told the reason is because if there is too much grain it drives the price down. So perfectly good ground sits empty.

Not that it would matter, I suppose. From what I understand the warring factions in these countries stop the efforts of humanitarians and the food either sits on docks and containers rotting and getting infested with rats or is intercepted and sold on black markets.

What makes people do these things to one another? What kind of person thinks sacrificing a few lives for their cause is okay?  Or maybe its better stated who sacrifices lives and thinks nothing of it?

How many horrors can be attributed to religion? To someones interpretation of what has been written down in the bible? I believe we were created and as such I think we have a genetic need to believe in something. If the bible is just a good book, or a fable, what else is there? If it's not, if it really is the word of God, what do you do if you no longer have faith in everything you've read in it?

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

I was recently discussing douche bag people with my friend. I told her, “This is when I’d like to believe all the things I learned in Church. That God is going to destroy all these stupid losers.” The problem is, I can’t reconcile myself to understanding who God is going to destroy. Based on the beliefs I was raised with, my very close friends will be destroyed by God.  I will be destroyed by God. This seems really messed up to me.

You hear people say, “I just try to be a good person.”  A good person in whose opinion?  I’m betting that Hitler thought he was being a good person. I’m betting he had what he perceived as the best interests of his friends, family and countrymen in mind when he decided to attempt to wipe the Jews off the face of the planet.

                           

Who sets the standards for “being a good person?” If you use the standards set in the bible, none of us are good people and we’re all doomed.

As the world continues to fill with atrocities, what is the solution? Too many people won’t raise their voice. They see bad things, but keep their mouth shut. Attempts at raising awareness of issues peacefully end up with little to no recognition.  Attempts to raise awareness in other ways ends with news events like the recent riots in London, Egypt, Tunisia, Syria…there have been more riots in the news this year than I can remember.  Then, in countries with a democratic system in place, where individuals can express themselves through voting, how many take advantage of the opportunity.  How many sat out thinking, “well, my little vote doesn’t matter anyway.” (Look at the douches in Congress as a result!)

I make no offer of a solution here.  I really have absolutely no idea.  What I do know, is that I worry about making the right decisions in life for myself, for my children, for the future.  What do you consider on this Sunday, God’s day of rest? Can you find reconciliation and peace of mind within your belief system?

P.S. This has been prescheduled. It is not a sign that I survived Six Flags. :P