It’s not just Sunday. It happens a lot, because, as some of you know, I’m a big fat idiot. Sometimes. Oh, I can pull the wool over several readers’ eyes and appear to be halfway intelligent, but the truth is the truth. There are messages coming in, and I get the intent mixed up.
Is the message meant to encourage me? Am I ok? Am I supposed to be allowed to rest, or am I supposed to be motivated to work? Does she love me? Really, or is it all a show to get me to keep doing so much housework and keep going to work at my day job? Does my family care? Or should I be alarmed by the message, or is it a “sign” I should pay attention to, take a warning from, or react in some way.
At this point let me confess that I started writing this blog last weekend. I asked a lady on the internet if I could send my readers to her website by a link. Most of the time I don’t feel obligated but she had a note on her site that made me decide it was a better idea to ask permission than to beg forgiveness. I sent her an email and I understand not everyone checks, because I don’t always check, but I’ve been waiting to see if she would grant the permission and she hasn’t, so I can’t refer you to her website but you can find it eventually if you research omens. I thought the content was interesting, but being an intelligent woman of discriminating taste, perhaps she looked at my content and decided to wisely and silently decline. It’s fine. If you feel like searching for information about omens, eventually you’ll find her site. Maybe it’ll be an interesting search and curious people will learn curiously interesting things. We now return to last week’s content.
I left the church building after hearing a message that was sort of a mixed bag of information, and we sang that song where I have to stop singing part of it. The song is a modern choruses and it talks about God in glowing, fantastic terms that are all completely true.
It’s really a great song until 1:02 when it starts describing my own heart, and I can’t sing that because right now, and for a long time, it’s not true. It doesn’t accurately describe my heart.
Speaking of hearts, my daughter just made me describe the tricuspid valve, I swear it’s the absolute truth.
That all (except the one paragraph) was last weekend. Since that time there have been events I haven’t bothered to write about. All certain things do is bring out people’s fighting side, and I don’t want to be about that. I’ll only say, as if you didn’t know what I was talking about already, that I went on record with my hatred of both candidates the American people were stupid enough to choose as their front runners, and so now we have one of them as our new President, and we have his pick as Vice President, and may God turn both of their hearts to wisdom and righteousness. Don’t tell me “a president isn’t the same as a king.” I know, but the Bible, figuratively as some people want to interpret it when they don’t like what it literally says, and, literally as some people want to interpret it some of the time when it suits their annoying argument against the rest of its’ context, can have literal and figurative meanings at the same time. Figuratively, our new president is like a king, in that he is the leader of the country. So, all you so-called Christ followers and/or Biblical scholars who just want to pick a fight and be right, maybe you and I can pray in agreement for a change, and just pray for our new President and his idiotic crony administration just like I did for our previous President and his idiotic crony administration, for God to literally guide their decisions and words so we don’t get our whole country, figuratively or literally, blown to shit. I’m tired of word re-definers and trolls, internet and “real,” whose only purpose in life is stirring controversy and fighting. Fuck you for doing that instead of something worthwhile. Write a contrary piece, like I could give a shit, and you’ll probably get more readers than me. Good luck.
Protesters, your children are watching. I watched a little shit on the news bragging about setting a fire, and speaking about our newly elected President in an entirely disrespectful way, and I wanted to slap his ass straight to Iran or Afghanistan so he could learn how much better it is to live in those countries. And his little shit family with him. He may have the legal right to burn things and say disrespectful things about the president and our country, but that, friends, doesn’t prevent me from suggesting he find an alternate country to live in, one he can love.
I’m aware, he picked up the attitude from his parents. That’s why I included suggesting they can get out too. I don’t necessarily like everything our present President does, but I sure as shit didn’t like what the last one did either, but I wasn’t rioting in the streets and burning shit. I was praying. I’m tired of protesting protesters and riots in the streets of my country. Fuck you for doing that instead of doing something productive. You are wasting time and energy that would wiser be invested in something worthwhile.
The message I got was so very unclear. We were studying a text about our hearts and I just have taken so many hits that, speaking from my inner geeky brain, I feel like I have about a quarter of a hit point left before I’m spiritually dead. I’m so twisted sideways and life is so very crazy that I don’t know what or who to believe because I think EVERYONE is lying to me. And my heart is SO very damaged from all of the surprise hits from so many different arenas I never expected, that my fear is overwhelming my faith. I’ve processed a great deal of thought since starting this writing, but I’m still reeling from everything.
I hate change, when it feels like change is only taking away from me. And I’m tired of feeling attacked by work, by life, by relationships, by the boss, by my wife, by my kids, by my family, by my own dreams and hopes and wants being so distant and so hopeless. And so close I can almost touch them and attain them, but so impossible to get to. Life is one step forward and three steps back. Right when I think I’m in a direction and in a progress-ion where I might actually develop a little bit of hope, shit happens and everything of progress that I felt like I’ve made, and then some, is taken away. I’ve written before that I have a limited budget. We make a little, I start to think I can afford to fix something important that needs to be fixed, and then something breaks and takes away the budget for what I need to fix.
I’m supposed to be spiritual, and I’m not very spiritual. I’m supposed to be an encourager and I’m not very encouraged. I’m supposed to be loving, and I pretty much hate everything. I hate this fight that I’m losing. I hate the way my relationships have panned out, I hate my job, I even hate going to church. I admit, the messages have been improving, but it’s hard to take courage from the immaterial when the material is, to use a word no one ever uses, MOILING. Reality is, I have no tangible security and I feel emotionally like I desperately need it. Every time I pray for either control, or at least margin to handle the lack of control, shit happens and I have less than I did when I asked in desperation. So I don’t even want to pray for me, because it’s a fucking disaster.
The mixed message was that I should be more confident. I should be more hopeful. I should be more. That comes from the sermon. And from my heart, the message was that I have no confidence, I only have eternal hope, and I am continually becoming less because control slips and slips and slips, and margin is nonexistent. In short, my pastor says I should be one thing, and my heart and life keeps telling me I’m the opposite.
I want to present a unified front, but front is backward and when I feel like I’m going up I find myself farther down, and some truth is lies and some love is hate and all gain is either illusion or elusive or nonexistent, and loss is tidal waves that keep coming ashore and only take more away after drowning me and trying to kill me with the shit washed up and uprooted by the force.
Maybe it’ll stabilize later. And maybe I’ll win the $206M from the lottery ticket I just bought. I’m pretty seasick. I feel pretty gross. And I’m tired of always feeling this way. I have some tools but I don’t want to abuse them. I’m mostly just sorry, to myself and my readers, that my message is mixed, and life is plain messy, and I’m basically babbling incoherently so I’m going to stop now.