Holy shit I hate it when people tell me to just turn my problems over to their god and let him handle it. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? Forget about all of my troubles and just let some mythical being in the sky deal with all the bad shit for me. Right.
I try to espouse a “live and let live” philosophy. I’ll keep my beliefs to myself, you keep yours to yourself, we’ll get along fine. You want to believe in a deity that grants wishes if you ask nice enough, go for it. That’s just not for me.
But I could be wrong.
I don’t claim to have any answers. I don’t claim to know what’s really going on. I don’t profess to know what’s best for anyone other than myself. I don’t even claim to know if this is really working for me or not, but it’s the only way I know how to be.
It appears that I’m going to be sailing some rough waters in the days to come. Shit could get real ugly or it could turn out to be nothing. What’s going to get me through this is my belief in myself and the help of my friends and family. I like to put my faith in things that talk back and can be hugged. It’s just how I am.
Sometimes bad shit happens to good people because that’s just how life works. You get some good stuff, you get some bad stuff, hopefully it all balances out. I do believe that if you put some positive energy out into the universe you stand a much better chance of getting good stuff back. Bad people always do seem to get what’s coming to them in the end.
I appreciate that we’re all different and that different people need different things to get them through the day. I don’t knock anything that works for you, I really don’t. If going to church and saying prayers makes your life better, well I just think that’s terrific. But going to church on Sunday doesn’t make you a Christian any more than hanging out in the garage for a few hours will make you a car.
And I guess this is what I get for saying something on Facebook about having a rough time. All of the “believers” in my family and Josh’s family are going to crawl out of the wood work and tell me how much better my life could be if I’d just ask Jesus to do me a solid.
So what about all that praying I did when my dad was sick? Did I not do it right? Was I not appropriately servile while I was begging Jesus to spare my father and take me instead?
Fuck that shit.