Is there an empty pod in the basement?

In “Bat Ship Crazy”, I wrote about the experience of being thought insane.  To put a positive spin on it, one can say it’s interesting.  People thought Jesus was crazy.  (Not that I’m comparing myself to Jesus.)  And it seems that the atheists who are the most vocal are actually afraid of believers.  Maybe this isn’t nice of me, but I think it’s kind of empowering.

But I sometimes wonder if I really am crazy.  I have become a different person. You know how shocked you were the first time you realized that you were talking like your mother or father (and not saying the things you liked to hear)?  Sometimes, I feel that I have been taken over by the spirit of an evangelist (not necessarily a bad one; I used to think there was no other kind) or one of those Annoying Believers.  

I feel guilty for goofing off at work because I feel I am “a servant not worthy of her hire.”  This doesn’t put a total stop to it, of course.

When I eat French apple pie donuts or a whole bag if candy corn, not only do I silently apologize to my teeth and my pancreas, but also to God for not treating my body like a temple.  (“Donuts are litter dumped on the temple lawn!”)

When something I’ve prayed for happens, I think that it might be because I prayed for it.

When a friend was talking about getting senior citizen discounts that she was not entitled to, not only was I shocked, but I told her I was.  (I didn’t feel guilty about it, but I was embarrassed about being an Annoying Christian.)  I didn’t mention sin, but just went on that it was really taking money from everyone else.  Years ago, when a friend talked about knowingly using expired coupons (adding that it was best to go to the checker who was the busiest or the one who looked the most bored), I didn’t say anything, but later I discussed it with the other friends who had heard it.  We weren’t nice about it.

I used to have one solution for almost any problem:  see a therapist.  Now I have three:  see a therapist, stop eating sugar and wheat, and try going to church, even if you just sit there.

I would think that seeing myself become a different person would be scary.  I keep wondering if I should see a therapist.  But it doesn’t seem worth the effort.  Although a lot of people would say that not seeing there’s a problem is an even bigger problem, I can’t really agree. 

 

More Woodstock than Churchlady

I hate those posts on Facebook that go on and on about how much better things were in the fifties – how kids just played for fun, or didn’t get on the team if they didn’t measure up, how people my age managed to grow up without having to ride in car seats until we were four, how food packages did not include nutrition information and restaurants did not list calorie counts.  Not only do I disagree with a lot of the opinions, but I think comparing the past to the present is unhealthy, especially if the past always wins.

That being said  . . .

Did you once have a clever (or at least different) message on your voicemail?  What do you have now?  I used to have a haiku (“Loudly the phone rings/Alas, no one can answer/So leave a message.”  Feel free to use it.  It helps if you first say “A Haiku.”)  I also had special Christmas messages.  I had one friend who had the Equal Rights Amendment on her message.  And it was fun (Yes, it was; I don’t care if it was corny.) to record a message with the new love of your life.  Now, I just have, “Hi!  Please leave message.”  Is it just me, or is this boring?

It seems that everyone has become No Nonsense.  Am I the only person who has puppies and kittens on her checks?  (I used to have Hello Kitty, but it embarrassed the family.)  If you have to fork over the money, why not have something cheerful to look at while you’re doing it?

And what happened to all the unicorns?

Is everyone trying to project a serious, businesslike image even in their personal life?  (If I had a business, I would not have pictures on my checks.)  Do we think the world is in such terrible shape that we shouldn’t be thinking of anything that isn’t serious?  Or are we afraid of revealing anything about ourselves?

I realize that as a Christian, I have more important things to share than my sneaking love for Grumpy Cat.  (If you thought you could get through this without any “Jesus stuff”, all I can say is, “Bummer.”  I really can’t apologize for bringing it up.)  Jesus is more important than Hello Kitty.  But they’re fun.  Maybe having a collection of Beany Babies is all part of “Enjoying the Go.”

Fortunately, I now have grandchildren to share my stuffed animals with.  And I am going to say “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year” on my voicemail message this year.

Bat Ship Crazy

Actually, I prefer the unexpurgated version, but I am a churchlady.  Anyway, being on a ship full of bats (cute as they are) would drive you crazy.  I guess the fact that I think bats are cute (and misunderstood) makes me seem even crazier.

Not that a lot of people would need that to think I’m crazy.  Does it ever occur you (usually rather suddenly) that a lot of people (maybe even most people), maybe even a lot of people you know (maybe even most of the people you know) find your beliefs, if not you, crazy?  That they are constantly biting their tongues around you?  That they are hoping (though probably not praying) that you will “get over it” or “come to your senses”?

If I am being totally honest, I have to admit that I don’t know how I feel about this.  I like to think that I don’t care because I know I’m right.  But sometimes, it gets me down.  Not so much that people don’t agree with me or understand me, but that it keeps us apart.

And sometimes, it can lead to doubt.  Frankly, this isn’t as much a problem for me as it used to be.  I tell myself that things can’t be explained, so there is no sense to try and no purpose in listening to doubts from myself or other people.  This may make me close- minded or crazy. (I think I’d rather be thought crazy.)  But as bad as we are taught that close-mindedness is, sometimes it’s necessary.  What some people might call close-mindedness may really be faith.

Within the realm of faith, there is plenty of room for open mindedness.  There is room for different interpretations of the Bible and different kinds of worship.  Part of being a Christian is to be accepting of differences.

And doesn’t refusing eternal life (After all, you have everything to gain and nothing to lose.) seem crazy?

Oh yes I did!

Have you seen those either disgustingly or refreshingly frank toilet paper commercials (some have
cute bears) with the message “Everybody has to go.  Why not enjoy it?  Enjoy the go!”?  (You can find them on YouTube.)

If we look at this from a religious perspective, we can maybe draw some lessons from it.  Really. 

First:  Our entire bodies, even our excretory systems, are marvels of God’s work.

Second:  Everybody goes (or went).  I wonder in how many bathrooms, as Mom or Dad reads Everybody Poops, Aiden or Charlotte pipes up from the potty chair to ask if that includes Jesus and his mommy.  (The answer is yes, although I am on the fence about Jackie Kennedy.)

So why not enjoy the go?

But what I also get out of the commercials is that “The Go” is our lives.  We have all of God’s gifts and the best way to give thanks is to make the most of them and enjoy them.

We don’t have to try to be model Christians all the time.  (Well, maybe we do, but we can still have fun doing it.)

So walk in the rain, smell the popcorn at the movies (and eat it with butter), belt out the hymns (or whatever you like), kiss your family, friends, and pets.

Joy is one of the best ways to praise God.  And as you radiate joy, you send the message “This is what a believing Christian looks like.”

Of course, it might not be a good evangelizing technique to talk about enjoying the literal go.  But otherwise, knock yourself out.

Enjoy the go!

Note:  To give credit where it is due, the commercials are for Charmin.  What would Mr. Whipple say?