Jesus Loves Me...

This I know.

I don't even ask for forgiveness anymore. When I pray, often, the buzzing in my head drowns out, well, the other buzzings in my head.

Tonight, I was reading blogs again, stewing at all the quiet, persistent sexism (and, not so quiet. it's estimated 1 in 4 women will be raped/sexually assaulted worldwide), the kill-the-gays bill in Uganda, the fact that so many times, the church has perpetuated oppression instead of working to relieve it, my own depression...

To be honest, readers, though, I am not as tolerant as this "bleeding-hearted-liberal-guilt"y language might suggest.

Usually, I can't even tolerate hearing about any of this bullshit.

Christians talk about knowing that something is amiss in the world, as if we all have an ancient memory of something we can't forget, no matter how hard we try. There is definitely some overdeveloped sense of justice in me that cries foul repeatedly, hell, a million times, each day...

At the end of this rabbit trail, invariably, I am left alone with hatred, my thoughts a hive of royally pissed bees.

Invariably, I also forget that God is still lurking around the cosmos. And then, something as cheesy as the lyrics of an old pop song crop up on a web page and, suddenly, S/He has shown up again, and all is well...

Ironically, God tends to speak to me through music from the seventies. Knew S/He was a hippie!




I'll be back to my political commentary next post, perhaps, having risen up from this momentary bout with fatalism. Or, having been pulled back onto my cripplefeet by Hir strong and tender hands, as it were..(actually, next post will touch on theology. get ready for your eyes to glaze over! Holy Pelagius!)