The case of the missing shoes

For about 3 months, we lived in a homeless shelter for battered women. This shelter was both warm, but frightening at the same time. Warm because of Hope. Hope was a volunteer at the shelter. She always was affectionate and had activities for all of the children. We felt safe with Hope. All of the women [who otherwise were very fearful which made the children fearful] felt safe with Hope.

The shelter was on a sketchy part of town. We could go across the street to the public park in the day time if our mother came with, but in order to come back in, you had to be buzzed in. I hated being buzzed in. There was something unsettling about not being able to let yourself into where you're living and being dependent on someone else to let us in. We were told we could never tell Dad where the shelter was which meant he could never pick us up. We had to wait for Mom to be ready to take us to him.

In August, my mom was going to enroll me and my brother in that city's schools instead of our small town's so that we could be with her more of the year. She said it was "to keep us safe." Something happened though: maybe my balked at the school change? All I know is that she changed her mind the day before registration. We moved to a new place in the beginning of August as well. Apartments in the downtown area. It was refreshing to have our own place. Our own beds. Our own clothes in our dressers instead of living out of suitcases. The Apartments were owned by the people who owned the women's shelter. The ladies would pay low-income rent off of alimony or jobs. The theater around the corner had a free movie night once a month for all of the residents.

The thing was that Mom didn't have alimony as the divorce wasn't finalized and she didn't have a job. So things were tight. We got food stamps and food from a local food pantry. We would use the food stamps for whatever we couldn't get at ECHO. My mom was so poor that we couldn't afford gas nor the bus. So that meant whenever we went groceries, we had to walk a mile to get there and then a mile back. That may not sound so bad. But remember on the way back.. we're carrying groceries. And groceries are heavy. I don't blame my mom for any of this. She did what she could and had to do to help us survive.

Well, one day [and I don't know why to this day] she got mad at me. Maybe I was mouthing off. I did have a tendency to speak my mind even as a teen. What I remember is after we were done grocery shopping my mom yelling at me:
"You have to repent!!!!"
"Repent of what?" I asked.
"REPENT!!!! Or you will face the wrath of God!"
"I don't know what I did, so how can I repent?"
"You're a lying bitch! Go down on your face."
I laid down on my face, and she took off my shoes and socks. Keep in mind. It's August. The peak of summer.
"Now you will walk back home!!!"
"Can I have my shoes back?"
"NO!!! Bitches like you don't need shoes!" she yelled as she threw my shoes in middle of the busy road. The cars honked at her, giving her dirty looks. "Now if you want your shoes, You can go get them because you MADE me throw them in the middle of the road."
I looked at my options. I could walk home in the heat of summer barefooted or I could get run over...

... yeah I walked home barefooted.

I got home. My feet were blistered and bleeding, but I was alive. I tended to the sores. I wore flip flops the rest of the summer because that's what I had.

I remember my dad asked at the beginning of the school year if I had outgrown my old tennis shoes

I didn't have the heart to tell him that they were probably squished in the road by some car.

The Abrahamic God is a prick

I had this realization this week. Before I always thought it was more the Old Testament God that was a prick. I mean He did this:


What kind of God does that? He also tempted Abraham to kill his only son. And God killed countless others- either for being on the wrong side of the fight [for being a non-Hebrew/ Jew], for "sinning", or as a righteous sacrifice.

How does it make Him any different than this?

This whole epiphany started Tuesday. I went to a Bible Study. In which we read:

"Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." (Matt 7:13-14)

and....

"Not everyone who says to me 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven." (Matt 7:21)

WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE!!! You're telling me that I can walk the line... I can give up all I am for my entire life for a chance to live forever doing the same SHIT forever, but it might not be good enough... so there's a [bigger] chance that I might burn in hell for eternity anyhow ?! WHAT THE FUCK?!?! GOD is a prick!

Oh and there's only one way to get to that forever in the first place [that is much like this analogy]:
So in order to have me enter into heaven, God [in his all loving "mercy"] killed HIS only innocent son so that I can have a chance to go back to Him. Oh and I "get" to sing praises to Him forever. Sounds like God has a bit of a complex to me... After all, He is a jealous God...

That brings around to the problem with religion....

Overall, this has been Very therapeutic for me [and enlightening at the same time]. For me, it doesn't necessarily say in one way or another if there is a God. Perhaps all of it is no more than my Ego. It is entirely possible. But I know that my God is not this Abrahamic Prick.


*thank you to my friends for all the video submissions*

Free

by Winter

I am NOT your victim
Nor am I your cohort
I am NOT your friend,
your daughter, your wife.
I am NOT the one who
should wear your shame.
I am NOT guilty of your crime.
I am NOT involved in your sickness.
I am NOT your prisoner or even
your slave.
I am NOT a child anymore
but inside I cry just the same.
I am NOT broken and I will
NOT play your twisted game.
I AM free today.
I speak my truth
in spite of you.
I do NOT allow you to bring me pain.
I AM stronger now.
I AM stable
& I'm sane.
YOU prey on innocence.
YOU hide in the shadow
of a family's trust.
YOU break young girls.
YOU bring us pain.
YOU ruin lives.
YOU play sick games.
YOU stand alone
as always you did.
I was never a part
of YOU, you see.
YOU will pay for
YOUR crimes.
Not me.
I AM FREE.

Religion Unlisted

It wasn't a big change on the social media. Privately changing my listed religion from Christian/ Buddhist to simply Buddhist.

The change of heart though... THAT was amazing.

It was this discovery within the last couple weeks that I didn't literally believe in much of the Bible at all. The change really hit my heart when I realized I didn't believe that Jesus Christ is my savior.

Not because I think I'm perfect. Far from it. But what kind of God would make an imperfect being [like myself or the BILLIONS of other people] and then demand perfection? To top that off in order to satisfy that need for perfection, He gives up His only PERFECT Son to quench that thirst?

The whole notion of "sin" has pretty much gone away. Yeah there's laws I keep because they are my truth:

1) I still love/ honor God because I still believe in Him [or Her or It]. I see it in nature.
     I see it in my fellowman. I see it in the heavens. I hear it in a song.
2) I still will endeavor to love my fellowman to the fullest possible capacity

I thought the notion of letting go of Jesus would be a scary thing. I thought I would be afraid of hell and damnation. I'm not. I'm more afraid of what others [my Christian friends and family] would say if they knew. That's a big chunk of people for me.

I don't particularly feel like being preached at [because I know that's what would occur from several people.] I've heard enough Bible pounding for several lifetimes. So for now, while I build my strength and learn some more about my new found belief system, I lay quietly in my faith.

I will confess it is a hard thing to do because I'm usually the one calling people out on their stuff. And there's been plenty of stuff to call people out on, but I cannot explain it to them without there being Another discussion. One which I'm not quite prepared for.

The Cacophany

Sometimes it's beautiful, other times all I can do is retreat back in shock & horror...

All these people with all their religions/ faiths/ walks- whatever you want to call them.

They swear what they believe is true. That their solution of how the world makes sense is the ultimate reality.

• The world was created in literally seven days.
• The world was created because of a sonic boom
• The world is floating around the the back of a turtle
• The world is the dream of the gods
• Mankind is naturally sinful, have to repent and have that sin taken away to enter unto God.
• Mankind will live many lives and become gods and goddesses.
• Mankind will cease to be after this life.

So many conflicting stories. It seems most believers equally certain of their tale. Many believers unwilling to look at could part of what they believe be wrong? [Even if just a little bit.] All fighting, warring, committed to help others "see the truth" even if by force if needs be.

My question is, if it's truth, then why do you need to force them? Is it really the end of the world if not everyone knows it, because there's bound to be someone who misses the REAL truth of how this world came to be, the existence [and nature] of god, and what is in the hereafter. Yes the world is small now because of the fast technology at our finger tips, but it was not always so, and some parts of the world are still far off because they have not that [at their fingertips.] I cannot believe God can be so cruel and unjust. Nature doesn't expose God for what he or she is. It is something that has to be assumed with the best data given.

I know my ideas about god and this world have changed a number of times. It will probably continue to change as my understanding/ knowledge increases.

Amidst the cacophony is one sweet note that all of them share. That is where I will [and do] live- love. Service. Self-sacrifice. Not because I know of [or desire] some great reward, but because I know that is what's right. I will continue to prune the wrong notes in my own life until all that is left is a beautiful melody saying simply "It is good to do good. Be the good."

The Runaway's

Whenever I think about how my mom left my dad, I can't help but think of this song:


My mom and dad had been arguing back and forth. It was a lot of yelling. I could hear mostly my mom from the other side of house. My little brother, who was 9 at the time, would come into my bed to sleep with me because he was so frightened by the yelling. We were both afraid. I would have nightmares of it turning into physical altercations. Laying the the bed, we bore our souls- our fears and nightmares.

I don't remember how [I think my brother told my mom], but my mom found out about our nightmares. She said they weren't nightmares- they were happening. I looked at her warily. At twelve I knew the difference between my dreams and reality. I had never seen Dad strike her. By time she found out about the nightmares, I had seen her try to strike him. Dad always reflected the attempts by brushing it aside.

Mostly the arguments would be over she thought Dad was trying to control her, and then he would reply that he wanted to make sure she was taking her meds. Other then that, Mom could do as she pleased. If she wanted to volunteer, she could, If she wanted to work, she could. If she wanted to stay home, she could. I was old enough to stay home for a few hours and keep an eye on my brother. That had always been the policy, and we would go to a friend's house for a few hours while Mom worked when I was younger. It was frustrating, Dad wasn't controlling, but yet at the same time I wanted to believe her. Because why would she lie to me?

.... so came the day...

She didn't steal us away in the dark of the night. That would have been too hard. One day after school Kyle and I came home to find suitcases packed.

"What is this?" I asked.
"We're leaving." my mom declared.
"On a trip?"
"No, I'm tired of your father's abusive behavior. We're leaving him."
"I'll leave a note..."
"No!" she screamed, "I don't want him to find us... He doesn't want to be a family anymore."

I dutifully helped pack up the car with the suitcases, not understanding. We ended up in a women's shelter in a nearby town. There were about half a dozen women there with their children. Most of the other women had bruises on them. The some of  the other children recoiled from strangers out of fear. I could smell the fear there. My mom called my grandfather to tell him what had happened.

Meanwhile, after work my dad came home as usual. I can only imagine what it was like for him to come home with no one there. No note which would have been strange. We usually left notes for everything, even if we were going to only be out for a bit. I'm sure fear gripped him. I do know that my grandfather called my father to tell him what happened. I think grandpa must of sensed something was off. The police came, and took away my mom. We met our grandparents at the police station, and they took us to my dad [there was a policy to not directly release kids to potential abusers.] Dad was overjoyed to have us back home. Mom was admitted again into a hospital. She hadn't been taking her medication in over 6 months. She decided to keep living at the women's shelter at first after she was discharged to sort things out. She would come and visit us frequently at home. Eventually she moved back in with the understanding that if she were to leave again, that was it.

Time passed. It appeared wounds healed. But 6 months after that, she decided she wanted to leave again. This time, I pleaded with her to leave a note because last time we left, it scared Dad. After some pressing, she agreed. So again, we packed up and went to another women's shelter. Mom was angry with the last one because she thought they had turned on her with the police. She refused to believe it could be her father that turned her in. We stayed at that women's shelter some time. It worked better than the last. It was still scary. We had to be buzzed in for safety. There was a lot of fear from the other women and children. My mom seemed to be happy, healing and stepping out on her own, which I was happy to see. Unfortunately, she didn't remain happy...

Oath Breaker

"What bothers you so much about Lola walking away from Mormonism?", asked my sister, Rose.
"That she broke her covenants..." answered Beth.

Rose told me about her conversation with Beth in hesitation. With the understanding that I can probably never talk to Beth about it. I wish she would have though. I wish she had asked about it. How I felt about it. What thought went into my breaking my covenants. Because Beth was right. I did break my promises that I had made. (By the way, I don't feel bad sharing these, you can find these just as easily using a google search).

1) I promised to follow my husband as he followed God. 
    [Which I don't think she could really say I broke because my husband and I did fall
    away from the church together.]
2) I promised to tithe to the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints 
    [Which I stopped doing because of my disbelief of the Church. I cannot in good conscience
    give money to an organization I don't believe in.]
3) I promised to avoid all light mindedness, loud laughter, evil speaking of the Lord's anointed, 
     the taking of the name of God in vain, and every other unholy and impure practice...
     Guilty as charged, minus the speaking ill of Jesus and swearing by using God's name.
     I find that experience life and it's joy is much better than not allowing myself to feel.
     Furthermore, I find "every other unholy and impure practice" to be ambiguous...
4) I promised to be faithful to my spouse. No problems there.
5) I promised to consecrate myself, my time, talents, and everything with which the God
     has blesses me, or with which he may bless me, to the Church of 
     Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I'm pretty sure that number 5 is the sticking point. The thing is though I individually substituted "God" for "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints". I wanted to walk out, but couldn't without social implications or being afraid of how my soon to be husband and I would be wed. I call "foul" for putting such pressure on me in a high value time in my life. I wanted to get married. I wanted to marry Jesse.

So yes, I am an oath breaker. Not ordinarily so. I take my promises quite seriously. My father taught me that my word is my bond.