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 Christian idiot covered in wife's shit swears at god... go figure...

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Christian idiot covered in wife's shit swears at god... go figure... Vide
PostSubject: Christian idiot covered in wife's shit swears at god... go figure...   Christian idiot covered in wife's shit swears at god... go figure... Icon_minitimeSat May 31, 2014 11:26 pm

Job did. Jesus did, too. Sooner or later, we all do.

Life pushes us to the brink and we're left hanging over the cliff with one hand grasping a clump of grass and looking down at the abyss. Despair clutches our throat and what's left of our heart cries out to a silent God. Our only comfort is the words of Butch Cassidy to the Sundance Kid: "Don't worry. The fall will kill you."

It happened to me last week. It had to do with my wife and Alzheimer's and poop -- here, there and everywhere. I didn't like cleaning it up, and when Vickie expressed her frustration by again resisting my help, I blurted out, "What's the matter with you? I'm trying to help you!" And when the poop on her bare feet spread into other rooms like vandals, I yelled, "You're killing me!"

I wiped my hands on my pants, hugged Vickie, and said, "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that." I knew my anger was awful and the weight of anguish made me woozy so I hugged her some more to squeeze the fear out of both of us.

After I bathed us both with a hand-held shower spray like circus elephants, I wrapped Vickie in her friendliest PJs, placed her in the embrace of the recliner in the family room, and turned on "Ellen" who was talking like an adult to Sophia Grace and Rosie. I went upstairs and closed the door of our bedroom. I tried to take three deep Andrew Weil breaths, in and out, in and out, but blew up on the second exhale. "God," I yelled, 'you're an ---hole! An ---hole! You know that?!" I grrrrd fiercely.

I suppose my scream was a projection of my own guilt, but so what, it got the poison out. And I knew it wasn't blasphemy because the god I swore at wasn't God. It wasn't the all-loving, all-active, everywhere, benevolent Wisdom I needed more than ever, but the god of my childhood who punishes us as part of his curriculum, who never gives us more pain than we can handle, who allows us to be eaten by lions so we can prove our faith, and who takes babies away from their mothers so they can be happier with him in heaven. That guy. He tries to kill us no matter how well we grow in wisdom, age and grace. Interviewer James Lipton asked Robert DeNiro what he'd like to hear God say to him when he entered the pearly gates. Jimmy the Gent from "Goodfellas" scowled: "Him? He's got a lot to answer for."

http://ncronline.org/blogs/soul-seeing/its-ok-despair-and-swear-god

 Rolling Eyes 
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