The One true God? Really?

My favorite keep-my-sanity-while-driving-in-traffic radio talk show has been having an on going discussion on faith, and heaven. Is there a God, is there a heaven, what proof is there. Click on the link and listen to the audio post “Faith”.

I know that I’m not giving this a proper introduction and there fore I’m going to jack this whole thing up, bear with me.

We believe in God, Jesus, Heaven because that’s the religion we were raised with. Muslims have their belief system because that’s how they were raised. Buddhists believe how they were raised and so on and so one. And every one of them believes they are the right way and the rest of the world is wrong.

I am the way the truth and the life, no one comes to The Father except through Me. John 14:6

Our justification that our way is the one true way and everyone who doesn’t believe in God the Father, will burn in hell.

So I come to this. is it possible that every religion has their own afterlife and it’s right? We don’t know what our Heaven will be like. No body does. Is it possible that our afterlife is different for every single one of us? My heaven could be a beach with endless margaritas and cabana boys. My sister’s could be 24 hour yoga. How do we know there is an afterlife? Because the bible says so? So, we now pick and choose what chapters and verses are literal and which ones are figurative?

Isn’t every religion based on the same basic principles? A higher being and an afterlife? Is it possible there is one single higher being and we all just call it by a different name?

He wants proof there is a god. Is there proof there isn’t a god? Why do we think our god is the One True God for the entire world? Is there proof there is a Heaven? What is that proof and what is it like? My afterlife could very well be as specialized for me, as yours would be for you.

Oh and lets not get started down the road of faith… believing without proof.

One last time, for bad time's sake

His text message hit the mark. He couldn’t know the damage it would cause when he fired that shot, but would be pleased at the pile of tears he left me in. All from a simple, well worded text message.

Why it mattered to me what he said or what he thought or felt about me I don’t know. For years now it hasn’t mattered, but yesterday, it did. I can’t explain why, but it did.

For a moment, an hour, I questioned everything, my ability, my worth, my abilities, my relationships. For a moment I agreed I was a mess, I couldn’t get it together, and I would end up causing more damage and harm than any good. For a moment, I saw myself through his eyes, and I hated what I saw.

I know that his eyes are filtered with hate and rage and disgust, and for a moment I could justify all of those things. For a moment I lost all my security and the solid ground on which I stood and my ability to stand up to him.

On Monday I start going to a new doctor who is an MD and a therapist as well. I will not only be seeing a doctor about my medications but will also be in therapy, learning to use the tools I will be given to deal with situations like above. I will be given the tools and the road map to ‘get my shit together’ and stop being a pain in everyone’s ass. Welcome to living with BPD. There will always be things, issues, that will always be unpleasant. They won’t always be the ones I’m faced with now, but there will always be… something.

A single text message set me back years. Took me back to a dark fearful evil place I swore I would never return to. I hate him for being able to disable me that easily. For being able to take away from me my security, my strength, my worth, my confidence, and leave me a weeping hot mess of insecurity.

That will be the last time.

A Promise of Forever

For those of you who missed my tweet last week, I have a promise of a ring and a wedding.

There was a conversation that went something like this

Brian: Blah blah blah take care of some things like blah blah blah blah, and then I’ll buy you the ring you want,

Me: THE RING?  The Engagement ring?

Brian: Yes the THE Ring.  But blah blah blah blah And then you can plan a wedding.

Me: Promise?

Brian: Promise.

There was some other stuff in there too but it wasn’t important. I’ve got a promise of a ring.

And a wedding.

So I’ve started looking at dresses because you know, I’m getting this done before he changes his mind

Do you want to be the pot or the kettle today? Either way I'm feeling stabby

Just because I feel the need to write, and I’m in a stabby mood, I’m going to stir up some shit.  Yanno, because nothing makes better blog fodder than some good old fashion drama.  That and I am really stabby today.  Did I mention that?  Yeah, well, it bares repeating.

My Missing Piece post stirred up some shit and well I want to reply to that shit.   Now, I’m taking a wild stab at this (helpful to feel stabby.) but I’m thinking this post on the ex husband’s facebook wall, was pretty much meant for me.  Although I never said he was boring, in so many words.  I have a whole lot of other words for him, boring doesn’t even come close.

This message is for you. Yes YOU. You know who you are. GET OVER YOURSELF! You’re nowhere near as important to me as you think you are. OH! And if being boring means my children never have to see me handcuffed and taken away in a police car or spend time behind bars or even to check that little box under “do you have… a criminal record”…I’m happy being the most boring man on earth.

Get over myself.  Oh, please, do you want to be the kettle or the pot today?  I don’t think I’m important, I know I am because you continue to feel the need to keep track of me.  This whole response is proof of that.  You read my blog and felt compelled to respond.  If I didn’t matter, you A) wouldn’t be anywhere near my blog and B) wouldn’t waste your time trying cut me down.  I’m responding because I feel stabby today (that means I”m in a pissy mood, not that I’m actually going to stab anyone.  Thought I’d clear that up for you.) Oh and to prove my point.  I do matter to you, I am as important to you as you want to deny I am.  If I wasn’t you wouldn’t have a clue what I’m writing on my blog.  HA!

Your children?  You have one child.  And he’s my child too no matter how long and how hard you try to convince him otherwise, you can’t change that. OH and you’re future ex-wife needs to know she’s not his mom and the fact that he may or may not call her mom on purpose or accident doesn’t change biology or the fact that I am his mother and he loves me. So give up on that little pipe dream.  You can’t change it just like I can’t change his father.

My children have not seen me handcuffed and taken away.  You know so little about actual facts.  If it doesn’t fit your version of the truth you ignore it and run with what you *wish* was true because it makes you feel superior to me.  You’re not.  Again, do you want to be the pot or the kettle?

I don’t know of anyone who asks “Do you have a criminal record.”  Oh and let’s see, everyone who has ever paid a speeding ticket has been convicted, everyone who has agreed to a restraining order has been convicted, and therefore they have a criminal record.  I’ve never been convicted of a felony, just traffic violations.  So, in your pathetic attempt to make me sound like a criminal, well, it’s truly not as heinous as you want it to be.

So, get your facts right.  Might want to introduce yourself to the truth and might want to stick with it,even if it makes me less horrible than you wish like fuck I was, just to serve your purpose and prove your point.  You’re point which doesn’t happen to be based on fact.

*Whew*  I feel much better now.  Let’s see who fires the next shot.