By Misti
Date: 2002 May 08
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[[2002.05.08.22.02.8300]]

As it is Written




This will be short and to the point. I didn't take a Celexa tonight but I feel happy for no particular reason. I love, admire, respect and like my husband. I ate a few bites of a small red apple for dinner and now I'm sipping water. I read a kick ass Ed Abbey essay tonight on rafting the Grand Canyon. Wait...this is nowhere near the point. The point is, I'm glad to be alive right now. That's a rare thing. Since I am not bogged down in depression/suicidal ideations right now, I feel like I am thinking clearly and there is a point I would like to make. Here it is.

When I got home from work today, I was thrilled to find an envelope from Shannon and Susan on the kitchen table. Shannon and Susan are Julie Kate's parents. I chose them to parent my daughter because I liked and loved them as friends and respected the fact that they were in the ministry. In '96, I considered myself a Christian. I read my Bible constantly. I prayed without ceasing. I went to church all the time...Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night, whenever. Shannon and Susan were the most noble, shining examples of Christianity that I had ever encountered. They weren't hypocrites. They were good through and through. Their marriage was rock solid. I shouldn't write all of this in the past tense because everything I'm writing about them is still true. The only thing that has changed (and to my entire family it is a Biggie) is that I no longer consider myself a Christian.

Now. I know that most, if not all, of my family members probably blame this "sudden" transformation on Chris. Chris was raised Catholic. He loosely considers himself an agnostic. He doesn't believe or disbelieve in God. What he abhors is Fundamental Christianity. What he loves is the world he lives in. Canyons, mesas, nature, classical music, intelligent, open-minded people, good literature, humor, Mexican food. Me. He doesn't need to go to church or read the Bible or pray to be a better man or a better mate/friend to me. He's got it down, believe me.

So...what about this enigma that is Misti? What is Misti all about, Chris aside? I'll make it as plain as I possibly can. I have had God shoved down my throat since I was a kid. When I was a kid, I had nightmares about the Rapture and Hell. I would freak out when I heard weird noises at night or when I looked at the clouds and imagined the sky was about to rip open and reveal an angel blowing a horn. I had a beautiful friend who was Jewish. When I read Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret I thought of her and wondered about things. I thought even longer and harder when I learned that you can't get to Heaven without a passport soaked with the blood of Christ. Um...Jews don't believe in Christ. They just believe in God. Which is quite a lot, actually. Yes, I remember my youth minister at Kelview Heights Baptist Church in Midland, Texas. One Russ Hale. Overhead projector illustrating These People Are Going to Heaven...These People Might Go to Heaven...These People Will Not Go to Heaven. Made me sick. He didn't have names, of course. No individuals listed. Just religions. The list doesn't matter. It was bullshit.

I had this thing for John Lennon when I was sixteen. It was a Beatles thing at first but then I focused on John. I watched "Imagine" over and over again. Listened to the soundtrack over and over again. Cried my eyes out in my room. Thinking of John Lennon burning in hell. Healthy, huh? Yeah, I've always been weird.

Before I even knew what meditation was, I discovered how to get deep inside myself one night. I was bummed about something. Probably the fact that I had no close friends or boyfriend. Another Saturday night and I was alone with my Sweet Valley High books and Cabbage Patch dolls. Anyway, I sat there and blanked everything out. All the sadness, all the confusion, all the all...and then there was light. Revelation. Ebullience. I felt so cleansed. I felt like,"I am sufficient. This is it. It's just me. I can take care of myself. I can bring it all about. It all begins in my mind." It felt better than praying and demanding an answer and not GETTING an answer, thus being reduced to a box of Kleenexes and a closet filled with messages scrawled with scratch-n-sniff markers.

I've done the Wicca thing. Cast spells, carved candles. My step-father found my Wicca book in my room and trashed it. I was 22 at the time. I had to borrow his truck once to go to town. He said,"Just don't burn candles in it" in a voice that dripped hatred.

Oh, and when I was nine I went to visit my father and step-mother in Baton Rouge. My father was on his Fire and Brimstone kick. He would go to intersections and wave the Bible around and scream at all the sinners stuck at the red light. Anyway, it was summer, it was hot and humid beyond belief, and all my mom had packed for me and my sister were (GASP!) shorts. My father said we couldn't go to the zoo looking like "streetwalkers." So we got to borrow knickers/pedal pushers from our step-sisters.

This is taking longer than it was supposed to. I don't know who or what God is or what God is made of or how God made the world in seven days. I also don't know how God made a woman out of a man's rib. I also don't know why I should blame my period and all the shit that goes along with it on a woman who ate an apple so that she'd be smarter. I don't think it's about the Bible, even though every Christian I've ever known would say But the Bible IS the Word of God! It all comes down to the Bible! And it's ALL literal and true and it is not for our puny minds to comprehend! When We Get to Heaven Someday, God Will Take Us Aside and Explain Creation! The Crucifixion! The Holocaust! Every War Ever Fought! All of the Shit That Happens to Babies and Kids and the Elderly and The Goodest of the Good! It Will All Be Revealed.

Fine. I'm concentrating on now. What makes sense and feels right to me.

I watched "Snow White" today with my three, four and five year olds at Angelito's Childcare Development Center. I found that a few things had changed since I last saw that movie. I can't believe I ever wanted to be Snow White when I was a little girl. Things that were wondrous and magical and sweet then are just so much animation now. I really can't make it any plainer than that. I'm tired of explaining who I am in 500 words or less. I shouldn't have to. No one should. You just live your life with dignity and truth and humor and love. Everything else is secondary. Or at least it SHOULD be. Amen.

P.S. The Envelope...I had hoped it would contain the latest video of Julie Kate. It didn't. It contained two Christian books and a letter from Susan. A lovely letter. A good letter. She has my best intentions at heart. (thank you god/brain/darwin/tadpole/mud/lava/Yahoo/Blender of Love for my husband)
(sigh of relief...)