The Journey Beyond: Part 1

This is the beginning of a work that I want people to read, but only people who want to understand where I came from, how and why I've changed, and trace my path. I suppose it's to explain why I'm here, after almost two decades of seriously and intentionally following Christ, to renounce Christianity.

If I had a 95 theses and somewhere to nail them, I'd probably do that. I'm a fan of tradition, making bold statements, and not being afraid to tell the whole world.

But I was afraid to talk to my whole world. I knew where they were coming from, and I knew it would hurt them. I knew that I was, in their minds, turning away from God. Which is bad 'n' stuff 'n' things. In some theology, to know God's goodness and still choose to turn from him is the only unforgivable sin. My parents raised me to be a good Christian, and I had learned how, and it was all good until about five years ago.

To preface, I used to be what I'd call hardcore Christian. I believed that the whole Bible could be literally true. It didn't matter to me whether He made the earth in 7 24-hour days, or 7 SomethingElse-days. I just believed that it mattered that he started the whole thing. I'd read about the deistic clockmaker god and many other perspectives on god that I half agreed with and half disagreed with, but I wasn't too bothered about it. Jesus was so real...

God was my best friend. We talked all the time. I was an authentic, living-like-I-should Christian. And everything was not always good, but I have an undying optimist inside me that believed it would all work out in the end, the way it was supposed to be. And I just KNEW God was real.

How did I know? Well, while I was carefully contemplating how to kill myself in sixth grade, I felt a hug. And Something told me that I wasn't supposed to kill myself and that it had plans for my future. My then-faith in the Christian God was complete. He had to be real.

Now, I'm not so sure. It could have been another force that I don't put into the box labeled "Christian God" and I'm certain that it was. Why? Well I don't believe in the Christian God. I believe whatever is out there has been misunderstood, mislabeled, and misrepresented by people who espoused to know it and religions that claimed to frame it for us. I think Jesus Christ himself would be pretty upset about what we've made him out to be and what we've made God out to be and how we started a religion.

How dare we.

So that's the short story. Now for the long version, including how I handled questions like:

Does God ask us to do things because they are the right thing to do?
...or does he ask us to do them simply because he says so?

Why do you keep using/reading the Bible if you don't believe in it anymore?

...and how I came to conclusions like:

Christianity does not have the monopoly on truth.

I am a witch. (I feel the potential consequences of making such a statement are dire, even in this day and age, and I'm ready to burn at the stake for it...*that's supposed to be halfway funny, guys*)

More to come; feel free to post questions and I will answer them as I come to them. Love and light to all.

This is my life. At the end of the day, I have to live with myself in my own head. At the end of the day, I answer to me. And I must do things that I would approve of, be happy with, be proud of.

I know who you're meant to Love

Have you ever loved someone?

I'm sure you have. In one way or another, you have loved someone. Or something. Or you're a psychopath. All of which are options; I'm just trying to be inclusive.

I've loved people lots of different ways. Some people I loved enough to not date. Others I loved too much to date. Some people I loved enough to let go. Others I loved so much I couldn't let go.

But you know what the hardest kind of love is?

(This is the part where you GUESS).

But you're not going to guess. You're going to keep mindlessly reading. So I'll give you a little text-room to think.

The past week has been filled with more disappointment, wreckage, damage, insanity, and tears than I care to remember...but it has also held more hope than I have had in years. That's the way it works, you know. Balance. Breathe. Life will come and life will go and at the end of the day you have to live with yourself.

Ok you had better have guessed by now.

The hardest kind of love is to love yourself. But you had better do it.

I love you, but...

...just in case
I ever stop
these will be the signs

mushroom clouds arising
dark, gray sky
spring never coming
whispers of my
existence nothing but shadows

and the gray-green sky will twist
breath tornados destroy
every memory of me
like I fell into a time vortex

and really never existed
because if I didn't love you
I didn't really live
and if i didn't really live
how did i
exist

Day 2 Without You

and the title rhymed

and the little pieces of my life started to fit together
like books on a bookshelf
but with pages torn out
pages that belonged to you
pages that you wrote

and the stories don't all end the same
way
anymore
because something lost
something gained
they will never be the same

and my life continues in a tick-tock rhyme
with words that i don't heed or mind

and i follow the schedule and i keep score
but i don't breathe like i used to anymore

and some days i wake up and you're not here
i reach for the phone and stop in fear

and i can't bear to miss you in this nauseous way
the sun rises on my sickness every day

"and they're all made out of tickitacky and they all look just the same"

and every Swift song becomes a part of me
and us and everything we used to be
and i see your truck outside my house
and i ignore my imagination gettting away
with me

because your love is in every inch of every wall
in my organized closet
in my messy pile of clothes
your love is
in all my old books and in the non-fiction section of every library

and i made a promise, a solemn vow
you won't find me again like i am now
i'm made of better stuff
i'm made of better things
i'm not a caged bird who cries when it sings

you'll find me someday
at the end of a page
composing a story
without bitter or rage

the promise is sealed
the promise is set
I will fight 'til I'm healed
Scars the ghosts of regret

and your love will stay with me
until my dying day
I'll keep it close by
I'll always find a way

To make it through 7... 700 days without you.

Writing a novel

This novel-writing business is much harder than I thought it would be. You have to have a believeable world, likeable or hateable characters, and some sort of plot or storyline.

Or you could write something terrible.

At this point, I think I have to agree with this one vlogger I watched on youtube. Forgive me, Miss Awesome Vlogger, for forgetting your name momentarily. Sometimes you just need to WRITE. And even if it's crap, you wrote something. There's always this beautiful thing called editing.

Apparently I can't get better at writing if I don't practice. Funny, isn't it?

So, in my pursuit of forcing myself to write, I have offered up my creative services to my gaming group. In other words, I'm about to become... duh duh dun!... a dungeon master. *gasp* (For all those of you who still think D&D is demonic, satanic, or cultish...do some research and don't believe everything you read on the internet. Sheesh. Besides, I play Pathfinder. Less calculus.)

What does this mean?

It means I am creating an awesome, storybook, fairytale world suitable for heroes and villains, lovers and fighters, singers and swordsmen. On the plains of my imaginary world my brave friends will venture to bring justice and right wrongs! It will not be unlike Arthurian legend, in some ways.

In other ways, however...I'm at a loss. I haven't completely created my  own world in YEARS! I used to do that sort of thing all the time, as a child. Good thing I still have stories from back then.

Anyway. I'm going to write this book. There will be epic battles, true character development, and perhaps some perspective-switching as I edit and re-write.

...but I promised myself I would write a novel, so write a novel I shall. And if it's any good, I'll share it.

Patience

The difference between patience...

and putting up with way too much crap that you shouldn't have to.

First of all, if you think you're being patient, it's probably because you're already putting up with something that you don't think you should.

I'll be perfectly honest. I think I'm a pretty patient person. In other words, I'm a very impatient person who feels the need to be patient more than anyone else I know.

Now, there's a difference between putting up with what you don't feel like and putting up with something you shouldn't.

You probably don't feel like going to work. Or doing your homework. Or grocery shopping. Or waiting in line. Or being kind to people who are mean to you. But I think you should probably keep doing those things.

You shouldn't put up with people dying, if there's something you can do to stop it. You shouldn't put up with violence towards yourself, be it physical or emotional. You shouldn't put up with bullshit answers to things when you deserve to know the truth.

Otherwise you should probably be patient, listen carefully, and try to be at peace with everyone as much as is in your power.

And you can tell me that I'm naive, and that I have rose-colored glasses when I look at the world. To you, I must say two things.
1. They're tinted pink because they're stained with the blood and sweat of those before me.
2. "Some men see things as they are and ask why. Others dream things that never were and ask why not. ~George Bernard Shaw (a personal favorite of mine when it comes to quotes and plays and such)

I'm a "why not" person more than I am a "why" person. I'm a dreamer, yes. Why not you?