Church really messed me up. I grew up hating myself, miserable, because of a church. Because I let men tell me what to believe.
I love God. I really, really do. There are times when I see beauty – be it a rainstorm, pristine white snow, Lake Tahoe, a newborn baby sleeping peacefully, two people in love, a stranger lending a hand – and I’m overwhelmed with love for Him.
The thing is that my hatred of church and religion tends to keep me from trying to be close to God. I personally believe that everyone worships the same God. Some may call him Buddha, some may call him God, some may call him Mother Nature, some may worship him as thousands of separate gods, but in the end, I think it’s all the same being. I choose to call him God. When we die, I think that this being, my God, takes those who truly love to the place they want to be. Whatever form heaven is to you, I think that’s where your God will take you when you die.
I love God. I thank Him every day for putting me in a spot where my eyes were open to just how hateful a religion I’d grown up in. I thank him for showing me that the only thing that matters is a good, kind, loving heart. I don’t think God really cares what we do as long as we love our fellow man and as long as we aren’t hurting anyone else. I think all he wants from us is for us to love each other, to help each other when it’s needed, to encourage and support each other. And for this reason, I believe that, in spite of my being a grand ol’ whore, in spite of my love of dirty words, in spite of my awful, sick, twisted sense of humor, in spite of anything bad I see in myself…I believe that because I love people, because I want to help other people, because I’m miserable if I see someone else miserable, because I can’t stand to see someone in need and refuse to sit by and not help, I believe that, when I die, God will reward me with whatever vision of a paradise I hold in my heart.
This means that when I die, I’ll spend an eternity living by a lake, sitting with my grandmother (who I miss so much right now that it has me in tears) and my kids, just enjoying the view, swimming, fishing, listening to good old country music, and feeling the love.
I don’t really have a point to all this, other than to say that sometimes I really miss going to church. I know people will say that there are churches out there that don’t preach hate. There are churches that teach only love. Churches that accept people for who they are, that don’t condemn others. But I just don’t believe that. I believe that no matter how loving and innocent a church appears, how truly Christ-like it seems to be, ALL churches have their own ulterior motives. I don’t miss being around other churchies. I don’t miss the preaching. What I miss is the music. The songs. The hymns. I have all kinds of spiritual music that I listen to, and sometimes it just moves me to the point where I just want to stand up and wrap my arms around God and never let go.
I guess where I’m going with this is that I think the only way I’ll ever find a church that truly gives me what I need is when I die. At that time, I’ll have all the music I want, surrounded by real love, with people who aren’t expecting anything, and with God literally by my side.
This whole post may sound moody or sad, but it’s really not. I just…I feel the urge to proudly say that I love my God. A lot of people in my life say they can’t understand how I’ve gotten so far from Him, but the truth is that I’m closer to Him than I’ve ever been, and I don’t understand how THEY can be so FAR from Him and not realize it, how they can think they’re actually CLOSE to him. They don’t believe me when I say I love Him and that I’m close to Him. So, I’m here, now, telling you, my friends, that I love God with all that I’m capable of loving Him with.
Yes, I’m a filthy minded, foul mouthed, lazy bum, but you know what? God loves me, and I love Him.