Friday, January 25, 2008

She wakes up and says something

Last week when I posted, I thought, Man, I really need to post more often. Here I am, today, posting...clearly not more often. Damn. This whole getting up at 4 am to drive two hours to work thing is wearing me the fuck out. I had the day off today. I slept in until 9 am--a full 5 hours later than on a work day--and then spent an hour sipping my coffee. It was decadent.

That said, I suppose I should actually post something, yes?

I'll start with Sunday. Sunday, I drove a couple hours to my hometown to see my dad preach. He doesn't do this often as he is a tax man by trade, not a preacher man. But, when he does it, he does it well. Or so I heard from the other people there. I was holding Logyn during the service. I just kept looking at her and thinking, I cannot believe I am actually biologically related to anything this beautiful. I didn't even know they made them this gorgeous. I wonder if I could somehow swallow her and keep her for my own? I don't think I heard a word my dad said over all that. But other people--people who weren't distracted by the most amazing creature ever right there in their lap--they said he was great.

I don't often talk about God or my feelings about him or her. I don't talk about this for two reasons. First, it's personal, and people who talk about their experiences with a higher power (or lack thereof) often end up sounding like they expect you to be having all the same experiences. Like, If you were doing it right, you'd have this kind of God relationship, too. Or, conversely, If you were smarter and more logical, you, too, would realize there is no god. Or maybe that's just how they sound to me (with the rare exception). Anyway, I worry about sounding like that. And second, my feelings about God are, uh...for lack of a better word, mixed. A mix of confusion, and anger, and gratitude, and sorrow, and I'm trusting God with this, and I hope he or she doesn't fuck up my life and make me live in a cave and eat bugs.

Mostly, on my best and worst days, I understand what Anne Lamott meant when she said, I'm fucked unto the Lord.

Well...all that said, two things happened on Sunday that I will remember for a long time. They are sort of God things. Forgive me if I sound like 1) You should be having the same experiences or 2) I'm all...mixed.

First, I spent the worship time holding Logyn. I can not explain except to say that was the best worship time I've experienced, well, maybe ever. It wasn't one of those hands in the air, roll in the aisles things you see on the God Needs Money channel. It was just sort of...ahhh.

Second, after church, I talked briefly with a man named Steve. Steve used to be a pastor but had to leave his job when he got multiple sclerosis. Steve is a very intelligent, eloquent man. As a pastor he wrote and delivered brilliant sermons. Sadly, the plaques of multiple sclerosis are slowly filling his brain and have taken much of his short-term memory.

Steve still delivers brilliant sermons, though. They're a bit shorter, but also a bit more honest than those he gave before MS. On Sunday, in his soft Southern drawl, he told me this...

The other day, I said to God, "You know, I feel like you've forgotten my address. Like I should send up a flare or something." Then, I went to the nursing home to do my little bit of preachin' and I met a guy, my age, missing one leg and half of the other one. He was there to do his rehab and then he was gonna go back to working and taking care of his kids. And I said, "Well okay, Lord. I see what you mean."


So, there you go. My sort of God things. I know what you're thinking, Girl doesn't post for a week, and then, when she finally does, she writes about freaking church.

Sorry. I'd write about sex. But, I'm doing that even less frequently than I'm doing church.

6 comments:

Neponset River Bridge Dig said...

Great post!!this has to be one of the more heartfelt posts I've read here. Thanks for sharing and get all the rest you need -Med school is a bitch. But I don't need to tell you do I?

dive said...

After about a decade, getting up at four in the morning and rolling home at bedtime gets a little easier …
Who the hell am I kidding. It sucks as much now as it did years ago.
Good luck with it, T.

Maria said...

I remember telling a friend after Liv was born that when I looked at her laying in my arms (Liv, um...not the friend), I could maybe believe in God.

And when she spent all night screaming with colic, I could maybe believe in Satan.

It goes as it goes and then all comes round again.

CS said...

I think staring at a baby you adore is indeed a sacred time. You can see the pure face of God in a baby.

Anonymous said...

A tug on the heart strings from Auntie Terroni. There must be a lot of pressure coming from a family of preachers, T. but I think you're doing just fine. God moves in mysterious ways, even if God lives only in our minds. My little sister is a lay preacher too. She gets up at 4 am to pray - before her autistic 3 year old girl wakes. Her husband died a month ago and she is very brave but gives all the credit to her God.

j-dub said...

I like your god(dess) talk: keep it brief because, as you said, otherwise one often ends up sounding absurd, condescending, or both.