Because...God

     One of my favorite movies of all time is When Harry Met Sally.  In one of the early scenes, Harry questions Sally about how her last relationship ended. She confided that it was all because of her days of the week underwear. Her boyfriend wanted to know why she did not have Sunday, where was Sunday, and when she told him, he didn't believe her. Harry was incredulous as well, to which Sally responded, "They don't make Sunday, because of God." 

     Lately I can't help but notice that many things are the way they are because of God, or more specifically, because of people's beliefs. For example, I can't work out at my local Y until 1 PM on Sundays, nor can I visit the library before that hour. When I did my weekly grocery shopping last week on a Sunday morning, the bottle of wine in my cart was confiscated, because of God. 

    I grew up in a somewhat devout Catholic household.  Going to mass Sunday mornings was not optional. I attended Catholic school for 12 years, made all of the required sacraments, and even sent my own children to Catholic school for awhile. Despite all of that, I never really bought into organized religion myself. 

     As a child, I refused to speak aloud during mass. I would not utter any of the expected responses, and I certainly would not sing. This did not sit well at all with my father. It became a battle of wills. He could not force me to pray or sing, and he knew that, so we came to a compromise. I did not have to actually speak or sing, but I agreed to mouth the words and music. Essentially, I would lip sync in church. 

     This was not just a temporary phase, but lasted for years.  I don't think I knew why I was digging my heels in on this issue when I was a kid.  I just knew I did not want to say those words out loud. Looking back as an adult, I can only surmise that I felt as though I would be lying. I really could not understand the point of any of it, and quite honestly, I still don't. I tried going to a non-denominational Christian church for awhile once I was an adult.  I thought that was even more ridiculous. All the allegedly spontaneous prayers sounded the same to me, and it seemed that the people there just bent the scripture any way they wanted to fall in line with their own agenda.  

     I've come to the conclusion that organized religion is just not for me. God is often used as an excuse for people to treat each other badly. People use God to condemn others for who they are and who they love. People use God as an excuse to oppress women, start wars, and perform terrorist acts that harm and kill innocents.  I want no part of it. 

     I struggle with how such a benevolent creator can allow horrible acts to be completed in his name. Why would an omnipotent being allow innocent people to suffer? It does not make sense to me, so I gave up on religion.  I would not exactly say that I am an atheist, as I do believe miracles that defy science have happened. I think that there have been honest, devout, holy people who have led exemplary lives, but I don't think any one religion has it right. I don't think there is one all powerful entity responsible for all of creation, and if there is, I think he has some explaining to do when it comes to unnecessary human suffering. 

     So yes, I am resentful that in this day of 24/7 service and availability, that I live in a red state and can not go to the places I want to go, do the things I want to do, or buy the products I want when I want them, because of God. 

Writer Woes

     I have not written in my blog in for nearly two years.  It isn't for lack of ideas. I always have a few of those ruminating, but I suppose I lack the courage and commitment to actually type them. I struggled with finding my voice. I wanted my writing to be informative, a little sarcastic, and above all, upbeat and funny. I just could not seem to always find that balance. I also grew disheartened when readers would take offense at what I had written. My intent was not to call anyone out, but just to share my experiences and perspective.  

    There were times when I wanted to write, but I was worried what people would think, and how they would react.  I really wanted to write an entry after my cat, Maisy, died. I've had plenty of pets pass before, and although it is never easy, this one hit me particularly hard. I had a need to share my story, but I feared that readers would think I was a crazy cat lady and laugh derisively at my sorrow over a cat.  Fear keeps me from doing a lot of things in my life; it shouldn't keep me from writing though. 

     Does it matter if people laugh?  If they are people that I know, and they laugh because I was sentimental over a beloved pet, are they really someone I want in my life? If they are someone I don't know, why should I care what they think? These are the questions that have dogged me the past few months. I have decided though, I'm just going to write, and really, who cares what anyone thinks.