Monthly Archives: September 2008

Believing in God

One thing I have struggled with for a long time is my relationship with God. I suppose if you had to put a label on it, I would be a Christian, but I’m growing increasingly frustrated with the connotations of that label. Mostly because I’m not some crazed, hell fire and brimstone, the world’s going to hell in a hand basket kind of person. I like to think I’m an open minded, loving person; I believe most people would agree.

I think mostly why I’ve struggled with religion and faith and God is because it’s all so convoluted.  It’s pulled apart and taped back together to fit what works for a certain group of people. I try to follow Jesus’ example of life. He got angry, he was tempted and he became frustrated with those around him.  The profound difference between him and other people was his reaction and the fact that he never stopped loving everyone. I wonder if that’s something I can do. I’ve been told my whole life that you don’t have to like everyone, you just have to love them.  I don’t really get that. I never have and I think that’s the shadow that’s always casting itself over my faith.  I understand it in a sense of say, family.  I always love my family even when they do stupid things that piss me off. But at the moment they hurt me or make me angry I don’t like them very much. The love doesn’t go away, I just don’t like them. But I can’t liken that to total strangers. And the fact is, there are some people I don’t want to love.  Does that make me evil or human?  That’s always something I wonder about too.

My diary from High School is riddled with my bi-polar relationship with God.  My ups and downs are excruciating to read.  I see it now and I wonder how I could have been so inconsistent. One entry is rife with repentance and a new found love for a God, a stronger faith, or so it seems.  The next is about a “fucking cool party” where I got “totally fucked up.” The next will relay how I repented in church the following day and repeat the phrases of repentance and the new found discipline I would exercise. It’s embarrassing to read really.  What’s more embarrassing is I know how little of that has actually changed.

I’ve heard that most people’s faith goes through similar peaks and valleys, but you see it so seldom.  You see the two extremes all the time.  The person who’s life is perfect all the time.  Their relationship with God has always been wonderful and easy. And the person’s whose life is compeletly devoid of God or any faith in anything. Maybe if the “perfect people” were honest about their own struggles more often I’d be more apt to believe I’m a good person with bad days and not just a bad person.  But that feeling isn’t their fault. Just because things appear to be fabulously wonderful for them doesn’t mean it is.  It’s me judging by appearances, not bothering to notice the underlying signals, or make the effort to really get to know these “perfect people.” Therein lies the problem and it’s all mine.

The Family Home

Once upon a time I lived in California.  I remember a small house that we had for a while.  I was probably around eight or nine when we moved out of that house to the house I consider the house I grew up in. This house was amazing for several reasons.

The first reason: my dad drew up the plans and built said house.  That’s right, my dad, and grandpa built the house.  Of course some professionals were brought in for things like the electric and plumbing, but for the most part my dad built the house.

The second reason: my room was perfect.  I had a lofted bed which allowed for a nice private space for my desk and a huge bookcase.  I had a window seat and a large closet.  I was allowed to paint the room to my liking and decorate it according to my tastes.  My sister was able to do likewise with her room.

The third reason: my best friend lived down the street.  It made visiting each other much easier.  Our parents didn’t have to arrange rides to and from our houses, we could just meet halfway down the block and play in a vacat lot, or head to either her house or mine.

The fourth reason: this house had a pool and hot tub in our large backyard.  As a kid I loved swimming, I was like a freaking fish.  It was one of the few ways to stay cool in the middle of the desert heat.

This house holds a lot of wonderful memories for me.  Christmases, birthdays, Halloweens were spent in that house.  Pool parties and movies and one or two high school parties mom and dad weren’t exactly privy to were held at that house.  It is a great house.

That house has been sold.  My parents put it on the market several months ago when they decided to retire and move to Central Oregon.  My dad called to tell me the good news and to ask me to come help them move at the end of September.  I was glad the house sold.  They’d been trying to sell it for a long time, and had already purchased another house in Oregon so the time for the house to sell needed to come. But I’m met with a bit of sadness.

I have to say it was unexpected sadness. I haven’t really lived in that house for eight years so this tiny cloud of discontent hovering in my brain is a little strange. It’s going to be very strange to go home and see everything packed up, the house empty and waiting. My room all painted up and not mine anymore. The familar packed into boxes, on their way to make a strange house their new home.  I have to wonder what mom and dad’s new place will feel like.  Will it be like staying at a strangers house? Not knowing where anything is?  Or will the people make it feel like home? Will the fact that the family cat and dog are there help?

I am glad that they’ve sold the house; it’s done now and they can really retire and move.  I’m glad to go help and leave the desert indefinitly, but I can’t shake the weirdness that’s clouding my head.  It’s going to be great to have mom and dad so close, but my childhood will be so far away. Farther away than ever.

Labor Day Weekend

So this was a three day weekend.  I’ll be honest, I wrote something, but it’s still rough and not ready.  So I’ll give you a short run down of my weekend instead.

I stayed out late with my girls on Friday, which I haven’t done in ages! I went camping for the frist time this summer.  It was fabulous because it was also a birthday party for a good friend. Then I went to Bumbershoot with my camping girls.

It was fun and exhausting.  I love the wilderness, but also love my shower.