Friday, January 24, 2014
I have observed there are those people who proclaim to be of a specific religion yet haven't worshipped a god since childhood. There are the arm-chair quarterbacks that believe because they were schooled in a religious family and church they have the right to judge other righteously. And, we can move on to the devout or active believers that proclaim have gods ear. All the way up we go to the professionals who not only are devout, but found a way to make money off Him. Continuing on, we have people that 'draw near to' [him]'with their mouths, but their hearts are far from him'. And we can conclude with those who have spent their life studying, researching and then conclude that there is no "Him" to worship. Were are you?
I cannot say I have learned all that the professionals have learned. But, I have never had the desire to perfect the craft of religion. I cannot say if the path I took to learn of a "Him" was the right path. I will tell you that I have done a plethora of research. I have studied, prayed, fasted, bled, cried, searched sought instruction. I have done all within my power to develop a testimony of a "Him". Uh yeah, it didn't work. Despite my best work, I cannot tell you I am right. I cannot tell you what happens after our life on this planet ends.
I once saw a Meme on Face Book that said "Using the bible to prove there is a god is like using Harry Potter's books to prove the existence of Dumbledore". I will not begin to tell you I am right or judge you for your belief. My belief? I just don't know. I cannot begin to believe the words of man. And, as of yet, there is nothing to tangibly establish a post mortal existence. I guess The closest I can get to religion is, I believe we may be a spiritual being having an earthly experience.
Don't choke. I said it. I do believe that something happens after we die. I also said, 'I don't know.' How can I know. I haven't died yet. Right now, I have everything to live for. I have less than 50 years left to do everything I want and experience my bucket list. My life is my search for truth. Shall you walk with me?
We learn of Man's search for happiness
As we walk this earth
We learn of our kin's expectations
And of our own self worth.
We go to church, temple and pray
To Allah, God, Buddha and "Him"
As children we learn the "truth"
And earth life can seem quite grim
While you walking this existence
Pray if you want, Okay
But don't use a god to Reconcile
your bad behavior today
If in the name of the god you love,
your father teaches hate
You're being taught bigotry
But, you're alive and it's not to late.
Search your scriptures, read your books
strip off all your sins
Learn to love with out condition
Now your path begins
Because if you're still, like a sheep
And choose not to feed your quest
You'll remain just like that sheep
and never know what's best. (c)
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
I am convinced my mother totally hates me. And, I think I have been relegated to "Closest-port-in-the-storm". Nowadays I know she sees me as nothing more than one of the kids she raised.
For the first 25 years of my life, I was her pride, her joy: her besty. Being the only girl and the baby put me on a perfect pedestal. I got everything I wanted. When you looked up spoiled in the dictionary, yes, there was a picture of me beside the word. But, then the lines begin to blur. I chose to marry outside my race, outside my culture and outside my hemisphere. By the time I was 35 I had left her second love behind - the church. (Oh, I had a dad. But, I believe she went from being the wife to being his room mate long ago). By the time I was 40 I was my own person. Mom no longer had much to talk to me about.
Our conversations went from how we serve the lord to, why mom stayed with such a terrible person. Oh, sure we had our hugs and vacation times. But, I no longer am the bouncy 23 year old looking for that perfect spiritual white husband that mom can brag about. I left the family's religion behind. I let her know that I would no longer entertain her superstitions. I went on with my life and she with hers.
Then dad died.
The night my father died, I laid on mom's bed and started a conversation that has spiraled our relationship into the trash can. I wanted to know why she tried to pawn me off on my aunt when I was 11. I wanted to know why mom chose to stay with a child abuser. She lied to me for the last 40 years. And, I called her out. I guess I understand. I am no longer blind to the secrets mom kept to keep me innocent. I am no longer blinded by a religion she loves with her heart. Have I let her down? Or, has she let me down. Do you know what makes me sad. It's not loosing my moms favor. She bases her bigoted love on how close I am to her god. No, the pain comes that I cannot share this with my besty - my daughter. I can be thankful - in the end, that I have no secrets to hid about her father, my husband.
Baby Grace fair and white
translucent and so fair
Spinks of freckles on her face
and wisps of auburn hair.
She grew up 15 years ago
She chose her path with thought
And tossed aside her false pretense
she made a better lot.
Her brothers and their wives would struggle
to deal with their molester's
When grace reached out to speak the truth
They welcomed her grand gestures.
Old daddy sat in pure disgrace
And the family shunned him well
Mom who may have loved him once
went through her private hell
Within 10 years forgiveness came
And hugs where shared around
Brothers came to support our mom
And grace stayed out of town
It's no wonder she's so bitter
Mom lives away from Grace
Grace exposed the open wounds
And put nothing in it's place. (c)