How Fundamentalists Got Me Reading the Bible

Maybe a better title would be: Taking the Bible Away From Fundamentalists.

I don't think they read that book, honestly.  You point out some extreme logical fallacies between what a certain verse/passage says and what they are doing/saying and they completely ignore you and attack even harder.
In the past couple of weeks I have gotten into some pretty hot discussions with some 'old' friends. (They are my age and we knew eachother from TeenPact, or Catholic Drama Camp, or some other homeschool function)

In one, I posted a video of the police brutality on the Berkley Campus (before the UCDavis debacle) where I commented that if you were not sickened/made angry, you should at least not feel as though Police were anything but a bully-service for the powers that be.  I got a couple people commenting; everything from "Well, if you dont want to be punished don't break the law" to "I dont know all the details so I am not going to blame the police or take sides."

HUMANS WERE BEING BEATEN and cruelly treated.  And they excused it with rhetoric or some other nonsense.  I tried to argue from a human rights standpoint and pointed out that all of them were "Constitutionalists" in the sense that they would agree that the Constitution was the ruling law of the land and it says that all men were created equal and with rights and disagreement ideologically was NOT in any way shape or form an allowable excuse for brutality or harsh treatment.  I tried to argue that these were AMERICANS and students and had the right on their own campus to make groups and have strong opinions and I was called liberal and feminist and other 'slurs' to the conservative fundamentalist mind.

If standing for humane treatment of people, especially Americans, makes me a liberal, I will take the label gladly.  I thought I would have to have an abortion and vote Democrat or write for the Huffington Post before I got labeled 'liberal' but I guess not.

Then, my cousin began stalking me and some of my older posts and attacking me post after post.
I can handle opposition and dissent from old friends, and let them unfriend me, but family is personal.
This cousin is the perfect first born who was naturally gifted with musical abilities that his father and father's family and mother prize more than other talents and he has been the model son all his life.
He has never had a disagreeing thought in his life and never needed a job or had to support himself.  He just recently went off to college in a different state and somehow he has the time to stalk me and berate me for my taste in music, my stand on human rights, and my disagreements with other narrow-minded homeschoolers.

Anyway, back to the title and point of the blog.  I guess I got so fed up with these nasty, judgmental brats that I began reading the Bible and searching Biblegateway for passages that directly talk about love and acceptance and caring for one-another.  Or for standing up for the abused or wounded.  Or not putting one person or group over another.
I am expecting a comment about being thankful for that, but I am not.
I am upset that they are the ones who are seen as the Bible thumpers with God's direct number and yet they are the selfish, mean assholes who run others through the mud for disagreeing on one or two issues.
Have they EVER read Romans 12-15?

Get along with each other; don't be stuck-up.
Make friends with nobodies; don't be the great somebody.
Don't hit back; discover beauty in everyone. If you've got it in you, get along with everybody.
Don't insist on getting even; that's not for you to do. "I'll do the judging," says God. "I'll take care of it."
 Welcome with open arms fellow believers who don't see things the way you do.
And don't jump all over them every time they do or say something you don't agree with—even when it seems that they are strong on opinions but weak in the faith department.
Remember, they have their own history to deal with. Treat them gently.
 If there are corrections to be made or manners to be learned, God can handle that without your help.
Or, say, one person thinks that some days should be set aside as holy and another thinks that each day is pretty much like any other. There are good reasons either way.
So, each person is free to follow the convictions of conscience.
 So where does that leave you when you criticize a brother?
And where does that leave you when you condescend to a sister?
I'd say it leaves you looking pretty silly—or worse.
Eventually, we're all going to end up kneeling side by side in the place of judgment, facing God.
Your critical and condescending ways aren't going to improve your position there one bit.
These, remember, are persons for whom Christ died.
Would you risk sending them to hell over an item in their diet?
Don't you dare let a piece of God-blessed food become an occasion of soul-poisoning!
God's kingdom isn't a matter of what you put in your stomach, for goodness' sake.
It's what God does with your life as he sets it right, puts it together, and completes it with joy.
Your task is to single-mindedly serve Christ.
Do that and you'll kill two birds with one stone: pleasing the God above you and proving your worth to the people around you.
So let's agree to use all our energy in getting along with each other.
Help others with encouraging words; don't drag them down by finding fault.
So reach out and welcome one another to God's glory. Jesus did it; now you do it!

So I am reading the Bible.  Dont jump all over me.


There may be hope for my soul yet.
*sarcastic

The Pure Truth

I was sitting in a room in a garage the other night.
One of the cooler people from work invited me out to her house and I was trying to be friendly.  I didnt know anyone but her, and I didnt like any of the drinks out, and I didnt smoke.  In short: I didnt fit in at all.

But I really want to be her friend.

So I sat around for a couple hours and listened and every now and then we would gossip about work.
We talked about the guys and the girls and the who-dated-whos and stuff.  At one point we were laughing about this one character who told me I was pregnant.  She laughed and then looked at me seriously and said: "Aren't you a virgin?"
At that moment the rest of the almost-10 people in the room got quiet and looked at me.  I had never been in a situation like this and I felt akward.  I answered "Well, yeah."
Everyone went back to what they were talking about and she took a puff from her cigarette and said "You should change that someday."
I mused and said "I will someday....  I just havent found anyone worth it yet."
 (a cliche, I thought.  Something I was taught to spout, but at the same time, it is a vulnerability that I dont feel safe around anyone like that yet)
She looked at me very seriously and said: "I envy you for that"


I was taken aback.  I honestly didnt expect that from her. In fact, I was so surprised that I didnt say anything for the rest of the night.  I have been thinking about it since.
Maybe everything I was taught about purity wasnt such a lie.
At the same time, I wasnt being a prude.  Because I think if my attitude had been one of "no heck way, you whore" I might have gotten a different reaction from her.
The fact is that I wasnt allowed to make up my own mind about purity.  How much or how little.  Being a virgin wasnt an option for me for 20 years.
Not that I wish I wasnt.  But I wish it was MY choice.
This year, it has been my choice.  I dont want to be intimate with anyone unless I trust them.  And the fact is that I dont trust a lot of people anywhere near enough.


I think parents of young people should expose them to both sides and allow them the choice.  Educate and present the facts.  I feel like I am actually 14 or 15.  One year into 'growing up' teenager-hood.
Except I can make my own choices about smoking and drinking without the constraints of age.

I guess what I am getting at is: I am confused.
All this is so confusticating. Am I finally going through my 'teens'?

To Pray

One of the most harrowing things on my mind lately is my decision to stop praying.
And in fact, I really suck at following through on things because just last Thursday I found myself alone in a quiet car and I began talking out loud.  I have been really 'disrespectful' (as my good-girl-brain tells me) by calling the thing I vocalize thoughts and feelings to anything that comes to mind like: "The Pie in the Sky", or "The Rainmaker" or some such ludicrous title.

Oh, and Saturday I wished a happy future for my best friend who is currently in a terrible spot.
And on Sunday I sent love and hopes away to someone I had to leave.



My main issue with prayer is that I havent seen it work.  At least not outright.
I tried more than once to begin and keep a 'prayer journal' with specific requests and dates that they happened/came true and I never managed to continue more than a week.  And nothing ever happened in that week.  And when I would go back and read over some of them (finding them stuck in the back of a note book commandeered for more pressing purposes) I would laugh at the things I was praying about and note that none of them came true except the obvious ones (like my younger sibling's salvations).

In fact, my biggest issue is that people have been praying for my father for over 10 years now.
I know my mother has been for longer than that.  But issues cause others to really get on God's case about him for almost 10 years now and when you have an stubborn donkey in your midst that refuses counsel, the only answer other Christians have for you is "pray about it" or "don't stop praying."

I gave up a long time ago.
I heard that the definition of insanity was doing something over and over again and expecting a different result.

If that is true, then praying is insanity.  Because pleas for God's hand have either been ignored, got lost in the answering machine, were forgotten, or just didn't get high enough on His list.
My dad is still an ass and I gave up hope.

So I dont pray.  I think it is useless.
But my upbringing causes me to do it against my logical judgement and against my conscience and against my own desires.  And others make me feel guilty when they 'ask for prayer' for things and I feel like a heretic for not wanting their good and sending out a compulsory sentence or two.
Guilt-induced prayer are probably even worse than non-believing prayers.

So I am left with a dilemma.  I fight myself almost daily in my mind when I do it as an (almost) involuntary response to silence and when I feel the need for protection, guidance, peace, or control and I feel inadequate in any of those areas.  I do it because I was trained to, and taught it was right.
I dont want to do it because I see it as foolhardy and useless.

I know other people pray and get answered and I dont know what to say or how to deal with it.
Why does God listen to them and not to me, or to anyone who prayed like I did?
Why don't my 'little requests' matter to Him?
Why dont my big requests, either?
If other people get attention and answers, what did I do wrong?
Do I deserve this?
How can I fix what I did/myself in order to be allowed to get my prayers answered?

If it doesnt work that way then how does it work?
And why doesnt it make sense?

You start out talking about Birth Control and end up talking about skirts...?

You said:
"We had to feel that it was OK to control whether or not a life would be allowed to grow inside one's body..."
Yeeaaahhh. It's called sex. What was God thinking when he made it in my control to have sex or not have sex?

You said:
"(True freedom comes from obedience to God. We can never have true freedom apart from Christ no matter how hard we try)"
I agree

However, by equating this with the idea that control is wrong is a red herring, and completely out of the point.

I understand the idea of wearing skirts. And I like skirts. I used to wear them a lot, and when my father began requiring us to wear them whenever we left home, I complied, unfazed, and it was easy.
However, when it became "wear a skirt to the amusement park/rollercoaster because... just BECAUSE..." I saw the stupidity of outward pretending. I tried to reason with him that the MODESt option would be a pair of loose-fitting capris, but he was not interested in modesty, just us girls all wearing skirts.

The skirts movement is about pride. I am not a feminist. I am a female, listen to my skirt swish. I am a LADY!

People know I am different because of the smile on my face, the light and peace in my eyes, and my graciousness in dealing with them. I work as a cashier and pants are my uniform. When frumpy girls in jean skirts walk by and look down on me or feel sorry for me I laugh inside and just wish I had a chance to tell them my life story.
Pants are easy, they don't need to be washed after two wearings, and they cover sensible working shoes that keep my feet after hours and hours of standing.

Don't do things just so you look different.
Don't do things just so you stand out.
And don't use Orwellian duckspeak like submission is freedom.

Whelm?

Is 'whelm' a word?
Because I am not sure.

However, 'overwhelmed' is a word.  And one I find too fitting.
One day I am happy, giddy and silly even, and the next I find myself in a morass of self-hate and un-explainable sorrow.  What is up with me?

I met an interesting character at my work who went into an in-depth rant about being a 'Cancerian' (because 'cancer' is a disease and not the proper term for the astrological sign).  He told me that Cancerians, unlike their fellow-water-sign Scorpio's and Pisces, are doomed to be consumed with emotions.  And not only their own, but others as well.  While Scorpio dominates others emotions, and Pisces accepts everyone else's onto themselves, Cancerians could go either way.
Without getting all 'satanic zodiac' on you guys, I find that his assessment of me was largely true, which was surprising considering the short amount of time he actually spent with me.  It got me to brooding (haha) and while I am not sure that your birth month necessarily dictates everything about you it has a surprising way of really sorting people mostly accurately.

Today is one of the days where I hit bottom; and as I gasp for air and flail about for some sort of solid piece of floatsam to hold on to to get my bearings, I am unsure of where it came from or why.
I fight against it, and it wears me out quicker than I thought it would.

The strength and resistance I thought I had built up seem like a couple spiderwebs trying to duplicate the Hoover Dam.  Back to square one and I feel lost.
Overwhelmed.

Halloween

I decided this year that Haloween is my favoritest holiday.
Our family never celebrated 'holy-days' and in fact we were taught to shun them and feel superior to those who did celebrate.

And in less than two years I have gone to the dark side (literally - but more on that later) and not only celebrate them, but enjoy them and participate fully.
Last year, I was very moved by this post by The Cult Next Door.  I sat upstairs in my bedroom and wrote in my diary and watched the day fade as neighbors gathered together at the one house by a firepit and enjoyed each other while children delighted in being children, and in being creative, and in being admired, and encouraged by parents and adults, and filled with sugar-energy and delight at receiving something all children crave.
And I cried.

This year I dressed up.
In fact, I dressed up in 3 different costumes throughout the week leading up to Halloween and a special one for the day.  I had to work at 7 am, so I got up at 6 and worked carefully on my makeup.
It was fun being able to dress up (my favorite hobby as a child), and put on makeup and to have people smile when they see you and appreciate the work you put into makeup, costume, accessories and the overall effect.  And then the people who scrunch up their eyes and try to guess.  And the children that look at you and get scared and the kids who look at you and smile because they are thinking about what they will be wearing that afternoon.

I was just talking with my sister about my costume tonight.

 hehe

  I really enjoyed that  I am afraid I might do it again on a not holoween day sister: hehehei don't think it's your natural personalityit is a mask, a dark one cause that's how you're feelingso wear it til you don't feel that way anymoreme: I can wear it and forget what I am feelingsister: just be careful

I really did enjoy the mask yesterday. Because in a strange twist I forgot I had it on and smiled and was singing to myself. But outside I looked like I feel inside some days. Bloody, and dark, and scarred, with old tear stains down my cheeks.

Maybe, just maybe, someday.....
What if I wore my inside on my outside?
Maybe I could wash out my inside with grace and then take off the outside and just be a nice inside?

I mean, isnt that the whole idea behind being 'goth'?
'Wearing your heart on your sleeve' per se?