Why in Heaven’s Name did you decide to make us human if you’re going to consign us to ten eternities in hell for simply being human?
The logic evades me. But I’m a thorough louse for even asking. Right? I know: more shame on me.
Christian
My Skin Has Been Burned Off
My skin has been burned off.
I feel so free.
THE BEST LOVER
I’m a sucker for a great big bloody love story, so that’s the primary reason why I am a Christian. They just don’t make better love stories than that, and I should know.
The problem is – and will always be – that I am a thoroughly self-obsessed, fully debauched sinner who is too proud and ignorant to listen to a god-damn word He says.
christianityquotes #imtoobroken #imasinner #religions #lovestories #philosophy
Man’s Description of The Divine & the Verbal Ubiquity of “Literally”
Man saying he’ll only believe in a Supreme, All-Powerful Force once he has human-approved, scientifically robust evidence of His Divine existence is like a slug defending his critical analysis of Shakespeare’s views on immortality using slug trails only. It’s absurd on so many levels, I hope they don’t require written elaboration.
The above is a SIMILE
As a slug defends his critical analysis of Shakespeare’s views on immortality using slug trails, so man shakes his fist at the Cosmos and demands human-approved, human-defined evidence of a Supreme Divinity in order to believe in its existence.
The above is still a SIMILE
The Man who demands evidence of the Divine in small, digestible terms he can understand is a slug convinced he can describe Shakespeare’s views on immortality using slug trails.
The above is a METAPHOR
A man who literally demands evidence that God literally exists is like a slug literally thinking it can imagine conceptual themes in literature, like Shakespeare’s views on immortality and then literally describing them using slug trails alone. Like…literally.
I don’t know what the above statement is an example of other than how we leech every ounce of meaning from a word once it goes “viral.” I took a test in high school that asked the following question: “What is the opposite of literal language?” The answer was “metaphorical language.” I am not arguing the Strunk & White correctness of what we learned. I AM bemoaning the fact I can’t make it through a 24-hour-period without hearing the word “literally” proceed forth from at least 8 separate sets of human lips.
And that just bugs me in an intolerant way I neither like nor understand. Even though I realize it’s like any other go-to, overused term that Society at Large latches onto, only to discard 20 years later from Our Collective English Lexicon..
So, please forgive me, Millennials, Genexers, and All Other Souls from Every Living Generation:
It’s not as if I don’t have more far important things to worry about than the words that trickle out of your mouths. All day, every day, 25 hours OF that day.
I warned y’all “Black & White Thinking” Jennifer can get really bitchy and opinionated when it comes to All Things Trivial and Inconsequential. And literally All Things Significant.
But damn! Could you maybe just start THINKING about how you use this word?
Because it’s literally starting to affect my blood pressure. Honestly. Like, literally. I shit you not. Literally [but not “literally”].
#grammatocrats, #etymology, #lexicology, #morphology, #semantics
More Questions for My Latest Suitor, to be revised on an ongoing basis
1. Why did you go and make us flawed, pathetic humans if you were going to punish us for being flawed, pathetic humans? You say you gave us freedom of choice so we could willingly choose to obey you.
I’m sorry, but what were you thinking? Do you not think that over the course of millennia, one of us ‘Yay-hoos’ down here would think: “Let me try this anyway?” Were you lying in wait for ONE of us to break a rule so you could punish ALL of us? That’s ONE part I’ve never understood.
2. And how can you guarantee it won’t happen again after Armageddon goes down and Heaven’s Favorites are where they’re supposed to be? Will they be the temptation-less automatons who so bugged you during the design phase, but who are now somehow perfect?
You get back to me with the answers to 1 and 2, and I’ll meet You for a conversation.
Oh, and I don’t intend on quitting sinning, either. Nope, while I’m still here, I’ll get my dopamine and serotonin where I can (thank you very much). Metaphorically: Apples are good for the digestion.
Disclaimer: if you weren’t carved into a “Believer” from birth, you might not understand this weird-ass conversation we’re having. You probably were required to memorize scripture from old and new testaments alike as both young child and adult to recognize the “code.”
My Newest Suitor, cont.
Oh the conversation continued alright. Not because of miracles (wait, except for that big one last week I completely forgot about until write now)…I was going to say “not because of miracles but because the guy refuses to quit stalking me…in my HEAD!”
Do you know the way an iPhone 12 will start to play from your APPLE MUSIC collection when you aren’t listening to Google for a nanosecond (or some other weird Apple shit like that)? Well, as soon as I publish that last post and go back to what I’m doing, Apple Music starts playing from the old limited playlists in my Pre-Spotify Period and he sandwiches “Better is One Day in Your Courts” next to Brothers Osborne’s “Let Me Love the Lonely Out of You.”
I say: that’s not very subtle, dude. And you KNOW that younger one is gay. You know how you ABHOR all that shit! I think it’s very hypocritical of you to choose it. Not that I’m gay of course, but I did just confess to empathizing with Lucifer, so I can imagine I’m not looking radiantly beautiful right now. Plus, how would you like to be hated just because of your internal feelings?
So I figure out how to STOP APPLE MUSIC and switch back to Spotify. It immediately goes to this song I love called “She Fucking Hates Me” from 2002. But I can’t listen to it for some crazy reason. I know it’s sappy, but I actually switch to my Love Songs playlist. So I entered willingly. But there ARE some extreme songs in there! Why does the first one have to be “I Have Loved You For a Thousand Years”?
Yesterday I was thinking that I needed a caveman in my romantic life: one whose signals I can’t misinterpret. Is he trying to prove his omniscience here? Because let’s get one thing straight: I have NEVER DOUBTED YOUR OMNISCIENCE. What I have DOUBTED is your love and concern for me at all, despite all the crying and weeping other people report feeling when overcome by your “great big majestic love” or something similar. Let’s face it, you have dealt me some serious blows, man. I mean: let’s not bullshit each other, ok? Can we just go for the jugular here? Better yet: read my FUCKING BLOG‼️
You have a lot to explain to me before I will EVER trust you again.
P.S. Please stop the downloads of compassion for my father. I don’t think I can handle another one. It breaks me into a million tiny pieces and you’ll be stuck knowing it was all your fault.
P.P.S. I’m starting to realize why you ripped every baby out of my womb, sparing me no bloodshed. It’s because you knew the day I realized I’d done the same things to THEM that the father you gave me did to ME, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Am I supposed to be grateful?
My Newest Suitor
I started up a conversation with God again yesterday. We’ve re-established a loose connection, but it’s by NO MEANS been anything regular. Yesterday, I feel like The Man had the GALL to suggest the lover I was looking for was Him. I laughed and gave him a ridiculous way to prove it, which himself opted not to do (no surprise there: it seems I always ask too much). Then he tells me maybe I should go to church today and I said: ‘Do you even SEE ME HERE? I am having an emotional breakdown in case you haven’t noticed (but I know you notice every fucking detail, so that’s not it). You’ll have to get me there yourself. Which you have not as of 9:29am, and I cried off my eyelashes yesterday and haven’t taken a shower in three days. So like: it’s not happening TODAY!” So like: foiled again. But I keep lowering the bar.
Then he says to me: all those things you wrote about in that sappy disgusting blog post you’re too embarrassed to post is how I feel about you.
I’m like: I call bullshit on that one! I’m waaay too “liberal” these days, and it’s not like I’m becoming REFINED BY FIRE here! No, your fucking fire is BURNING ME ALIVE!🔥😭🔥😶🔥
He somehow drops to His knees (kind of like a Disney prince, if I had to explain it) and he says: I’d wash your feet if you hadn’t gotten that pedicure on Thursday. But I can tell you how many hairs are on your head. [eye roll from me] 21,953. I said: how many DOWN THERE? He said: 10,291!! I shit you not!! The man actually said that! I personally thought the second number was a bit high, but who am I to argue?
So I said: I’ll be damned, I’d forgotten about your wicked sense of humor! He had the balls to say (after everything about everything): I adore every single thing about you.
To which I had to reply: if you want me to hear your voice by going to church, you have to get me there. I’m not going to make it. I knew you weren’t going to do it.
I knew I wouldn’t feel you today. I think I understand how the devil ended up down here. He started out good and got proud and betrayed you. I’m pretty sure I probably would have been the devil, too. It’s true. I would have probably been Lucifer himself if not one of the other angels who betrayed you and were also thrown out. Look at how much you loved him, and now you hate them all.
To which I didn’t expect a reply, to be perfectly honest. Because he’s already made his position known on the matter. And he’s pretty much always stuck to his story. But no, he pops back with: I still love the devil.
To which I said: I must call bullshit again, fine sir! What about those things that seem ridiculous over in Proverbs that say: “these things the Lord HATES”… something about a woman?
You say: I never stopped loving Lucifer. It’s possible to love and hate someone at the same time.
I didn’t have a comeback, but neither did he. We both know my down-here father died a year ago today. He didn’t need to elaborate.
I’m not sure how or if the conversation will progress.
Let me introduce you to my ghost: her name is Desiree
Desiree was the most lovely soul you could ever meet! Her name was Desiree Dalton Cedillo, and she was from San Antonio, TX. She was incredibly beautiful on the outside, but she was beyond breathtaking on the inside. She radiated life and love and family (she was a much-beloved wife and wonderful mom to 3 young boys). She was a devoted Christian and she had an especially strong bond with her father. He absolutely adored her: you could tell from the Facebook photos he posted of the family in pink “Team Desiree” tee-shirts. His name is Brad Dalton.
I had the serendipitous cosmic luck to meet Desiree through my volunteering efforts with other breast cancer survivors. Of course, I was probably 15 years older than she was and was divorced with no kids, but her spirit was infectious. We were spreading awareness about early detection at a local community college in 2015 (I think). She was so genuine and authentic. We both told our stories that day, me after her. She came up to me and said, since I was a two-timer: “Wow, I thought I had been through a lot, but I had no idea.” Can you see why I loved her instantly? I was going through my second divorce at the time. I was about to become a Nobody to Nobody. She became my Facebook friend after photos of that day were posted and tagged. *File this detail away for now*
I kept up with her through some of these groups, but I was going through some challengers of a different kind for a period and lost touch with her.
The last time I checked on Desiree on Facebook, I found out she was dead. She was in her early 30s, how and when did this happen? How could this happen? How could GOD allow this to happen? I still don’t understand why Desiree and Sarah JP (a fellow 29-year-old volunteer, newly graduated nurse who I last knew had metastatic brain cancer) were now Dead? They are both in the photo from that day in 2015.
Every day, I look at my surroundings and I say to myself: would Desiree’s house look like this? No way! She was so organized!
Next I say: would Desiree be wallowing in pity like this? No way! She was a True Believer until the end.
Throughout the day, I say: would Desiree be lying in bed because she’s in pain? No way, she was much stronger than that! And she’d be running after her three little boys and preparing dinner for her husband and selling those vitamins she sold on Facebook. And doing things with her Dad and family who loved her so much.
If anyone knows Desiree’s dad, could you tell him I’m SO SORRY!! I wasn’t even trying to survive, I didn’t even care and I still don’t. I would trade my life for hers in an instant if it would bring her back to you. She was so wonderful❣️ Please, please, please forgive me for still being here when she’s not. It makes no sense to me, either.
This Battle…Again?? 2012
“Women who are diagnosed with breast cancer at its earliest stages have a 93 percent rate of surviving for at least five years, according to the American Cancer Society. The survival rate drops to 81 percent once the disease has progressed to Stage II. If the breast cancer was at Stage III when it was discovered, the survival rate drops to 67 percent. Women with Stage IV breast cancer have a 15 percent survival rate. The American Cancer Society notes that every woman’s situation is different and that new treatments are continuing to improve survival rates among women with breast cancer.”
Thank you, Jesus, for bringing that little pea-sized pellet to my attention so early. I’m ready to war against this disease again, and I hope I learn something this time that will prove useful to others heading down the same path. I thank you also for the brilliant team of doctors you have assembled for me – even as I must depend on government assistance for their services. These men (the last time, in Dallas, you provided me with a gifted team of women) are truly a “dream team.” Knowing 3 members of this team will be diligently working on me for 6-7 hours next Wednesday confirms Your Presence in all things. I thank You that I am truly in the palm of Your hand – the safest, calmest, and most protected place I could hope to be. Thank You for giving me a spirit of power, love, and a sound mind. Anxious fear never comes from You, and though it tries to infect me with a vigorous and continual onslaught, I have only to praise You to obtain a blessed and calming reprieve. I know that you inhabit the praises of Your people, and I am proud to count myself as one of Yours. Please give me the guidance and supernatural strength to glorify You throughout this process…. let my words be Your words, and my steps those You have chosen in building a path for me. Lastly, Lord, I ask You to fill in for me where I fall short on this journey. For, even though my goals are high and spiritual, I am still bound by an earthly body of flesh and bone. And even though I want to resist the desires of my flesh, I am sad to be losing some very important (to me!) parts of that flesh. You alone can turn my mourning into dancing; You can bring addition from what is taken away; joy from loss and grief. After all, I’m just a girl – and a flawed one at that – but You see me as so much more. You’ve adopted me, justified me, cleansed me, and turned me into a much-beloved Royal Daughter. You gave up SO much more on the cross than what I am reluctantly parting with – and You did so willingly and absolutely! Thank you for turning me into a Princess the moment I chose You, despite what You know about me. For you have known me from my mother’s womb, even before the foundations of the earth. Still my fast-beating heart, Lord, and help me keep my focus on You. Amen and amen.
You’ll notice I don’t write about Jesus very much anymore. We’re not on the outs, we’re just taking a breather. 9/2021
Come [Word] Play With Me! 