Doubting Thomas, Saul of Tarsus, and Chrissy the Apostate

These two individuals have been in the back of my mind today, but not in the way that most people think of them. For those of you who aren't familiar, these are two characters of the Bible who were lucky enough to be given actual touchable proof of God. Doubting Thomas was one of the twelve apostles and is most famous for his line in the book of John in which he says he cannot believe that Christ has risen until he has touched the place where his nails were, and put his hand on his side. A few days later Jesus appears in the house with Thomas and the others, and Thomas' doubts are laid to rest. Of course, he gets reprimanded for doubting in the first place, and is reminded that those who believe without seeing are the most blessed. Saul of Tarsus, who later because the Apostle Paul, is famous for his persecution of Christians. His days consisted of arresting and martyring Christians until one day, on the road to Damascus, Christ appears before Saul and says "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?". Though Saul is temporarily blinded, he accepts that Christ is Lord and spends the rest of his years in service to God as the Apostle Paul. Ok, so by now you're thinking "What is your point already" and your beginning to have flash backs to Sunday School. My point is this, why can't I be a Saul or a Thomas? Most of you know that I have renounced my faith in recent years, and when the topic comes up as to what it would take for me to believe again, these two fellows come to mind. If you think about it, these cats got off easy. Take the other apostles for example, they had already personally seen the risen Christ. So why should we judge Thomas for not believing their story? He didn't see what they had seen. It's not really fair if you think about it, that he was expected to just "believe and have faith" when the others got proof. So what if for the rest of his time he is remembered as being a doubter, at least he got the opportunity to have those doubts vanquished. I think that's a pretty fair trade off. I'll take that deal. Label me a doubter, an apostate, whatever, just give me the undoubtable, unwavering, unmistakable proof as to what the truth really is. Let me stick my fingers in the nail holes, metaphorically speaking. Even Saul's trade off was pretty awesome. I'll take being blind for a few days if I can actually see Christ in his glory and know what is true. Hell, blind me for life if I can live the rest of those days with an unwavering peace as to the answers of the universe.We're suppose to read these biblical stories and find inspiration, but all I get is confusion and jealousy. Why do they get proof while the rest of us are just suppose to believe? I mean common Moses got a talking bush, and the disciples got to be there first hand for all the miracles. I guess my point is this, it's easy to be a believer when you get to see it for yourself. Moses, the disciples, Mary Magdalene, these people shouldn't be revered in the way that we revere them because it's easy to believe and live for God when you have unmistakable proof that your on the right track. Instead we get a little book with 101 interpretations as to what each scripture means, which direction is the right direction, and of course the probability (and likelihood) that over 2000 years it's been altered a bit. And please save your breathe on all that "still small voice" baloney, or sense of inner peace garbage. That's all in your head, but that is a topic for another blog. What I'm talking about is something real, something tangible, something I can put my finger on and have no other explanation, nor need another explanation for how and why it is. I'm not talking about a miraculous cancer cure, or a baby who was supposed to die but didn't, I'm talking some freaky other-world biblical stuff.  Until that happens though, I'll have to remain "Chrissy the Apostate" living as a "wicked generation looking for signs" (Luke 11).

Trying not to mess up my kid

I'm sure this is an area most parents struggle with. Am I raising my child right? Am I inflicting some kinda mental trauma that's going to need intensive therapy to repair? Am I raising a sociopath? Etc etc. While these concerns are normal, it still leaves a mom a bit uneasy at times. Recently, Charlie and I went to Cow Days and he picked out a toy shot gun that he absolutely begged for. My child is spoiled so of course he got it without hesitation. He then preceded to walk about Cow Days shooting every man he saw. We even sit on the curb and he jumped out and shot anyone who passed. While he found this absolutely hilarious, I couldn't help but watch him and think "Is this healthy?" So to make myself feel better I taught him to just shoot men, that we don't shoot women and children. But then I instantly felt guilty because that was incredibly sexist. The whole don't shoot women is based on the idea that women are weak and helpless and therefore it's unsporting to shoot them. I do my very best to avoid instilling sexist cliches in my son. I try to never tell him he's whining like a girl, or embarrass him by calling him a princess, or tell him "that's for girls" in reference to dolls. Most of you find this incredibly silly, and it is. I'm sure if I sit and thought about it I would find fault in EVERYTHING I let my child do. There comes a point where you have to let go and trust that your instincts will lead you to raise a healthy happy adult. But still, it's a bit strange to let my child pretend that he is murdering people with a shot gun. However, I don't want to be one of those wimpy parents that micromanages everything my kid does, won't let them say "stupid", only allows whole natural healthy foods (never candy or soda), and only lets them watch purely education programs. Those parents suck, and the kids are miserable and usually turn into really annoying adults. But I just don't want to be left with a dumbfounded look on my face like the parents of the sociopaths who shoot up schools. Kid's don't come with a tutorial, and everyone has different views on proper ways to raise a child. I guess, in the end, I have to accept that I'm going to screw up and just do my best to raise my child with common sense and morals in the best way I know how. So Charlie, sorry in advanced son. Send me the bill for your therapy.

Locusts of the welfare system

Sorry folks, time for me to get on my little soap box. Over the past 5 years or so I've noticed a huge wave of non-native kentuckians moving into Greensburg. Not just people from a few counties over, but some from clear across the country. Us southerners are a curious bunch, sometimes even down right nosy, so I find that it's in my nature to inquire on how someone from California or Michigan ends up in no-where Kentucky. The answers literally make me sick. It turns out that Kentucky has one of the most generous welfare systems in the country. Food stamps, HUD housing, etc etc are much easier to get in Kentucky and you get larger amounts each month as compared to several other states. With the recent economic crisis, several states have made a lot of cut backs on their social services budgets and the result has been a mass exodus of bums into our area. Now I'm not saying everyone who moves here from "a far" is on welfare, nor am I saying that everyone on welfare is a worthless piece of crap. There are several retirees etc who have recently moved to our town, and their are several people who use our welfare system for the legitimate purposes that it was intended to serve. But I have a serious problem with people who simply refuse to try and do better, who use any lame excuse to draw a check, and sit around and let the government completely take care of them. So the fact that they only reason they move to the community is because the welfare system is easier access, just adds insult to injury. How ridiculous is this folks? These are people who have never paid a dime into our state government because they've not even been residents! The state of Kentucky will never see any return on this money because most of these people will never have a legitimate job and contribute back. They are in a sense locusts. They move from one area to another, draining all the resources and destroying the community, then simply moving on when the resources run out. That's how they ended up in Kentucky, they already depleted the resources in other states. A simple solution: make a residency requirement for our welfare system. Make it a law that you have lived in the state for a certain period of time (say 7 years) before you can benefit from any of our programs. Why should we have to carry the rest of the country on our backs?

Sorry seems to be the hardest word

We all have people in our life who have done us bad. I'm mean real bad. I'm talking your hanging on a cliff and they're hitting your fingers with a hammer bad. So you get really upset/mad/hurt, but you never really confront what happened. No one ever says they're sorry, no one ever talks about what happened and why it happened. In fact, after a little while you see each other you just act like the horrible act of heart-crushing hurt they inflicted upon you never happened. This is my problem. The above scenario is carried out by so many people who are in and out of my life that it's just ridiculous. Is it better to let this hurt go and pretend it didn't happen, or do you risk rocking the boat again by confronting a "dead" issue. I don't think it's healthy to just let stuff go, because you don't ever really let it go. You remember it, it pisses you off/makes you sad/brings you down, and you can't help but think "Man I wish we could just hash this out already". It's crazy! I see these people and in my head I'm thinking "F*&k you, F*&k you, you evil little demon", but my actions couldn't be farther from truth. It's just easier to smile and be polite then to confront the real issue? Why is it so hard for people to say they are sorry? Why is it so hard to just admit "hey I was a huge prick, I hurt you, and I'm sorry"? Even if your not sorry for what you said or did, could you at least be sorry for how it turned out, for the effect it had? It won't really change what happened, and the hurt has already healed somewhat, but a simple "sorry" can kill the zombie issues once and for all. That's what these memories are to me, a zombie that keeps coming back even though I shoot it in the head, set it on fire, and spray it with holy water. But some of my zombies are really old, and it may be best to just try and zombie proof my house then to banish them for ever. I guess I'm scared that trying to finally get rid of them is only going to make more. That's all it is, I'm a giant chicken shit. I'm afraid of what the other person will say or do, so I just sit and let the memory decay in my brain.
So this is my formal invitation to  ANYONE I have ever wronged, in whatever way, LET'S HASH IT OUT. Send me a message, I promise not to tell. I may have known what I did, or I may not, so just tell me what happened, how I hurt you, and I swear I'll work with you to make it better, even if it's just an "I'M SORRY". I know there are some of you out there, because just like I've been hurt, I know I've hurt others. Please, I don't want to be anyone's zombie anymore.
I know right now a bunch of you are judging me, and thats ok. Your thinking, "just let it go, lay it down and walk away". But how do you walk away from a memory? There isn't any "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" scenerios I can play out here. So for now I'll just keep putting new boards up on my windows and hope that they hold for the night.

Too much time

Being an unemployed loser has really affected my productivity. You wouldn't really think so, I mean I have all day just me and Charlie. It seems like I would be getting loads done. But instead I lazy around and just watch the clock tick away the day. I know that when I finally do get a job I'll look back on these days and think "OMG why didn't I do this and that when I had so much time". But that's the kicker, I have too much time. It's like I'm stuck in this "Well I have all day" mode, and I am so unmotivated that I barely get up the energy to take a shower. What the hell is wrong with me? I hate it, I feel like shit at the end of each day because of how little I have accomplished. I know the need to be productive is rooted in a completely separate mental problem, but set that aside I need to feel accomplishment to be happy. I need to work. I need a fricken JOB. When I was going to school, working full time, and doing all the normal new mom stuff I was so overwhelmed, but I got things done. It's almost like I need to have no time on my hands in order to be productive. Really, it's not that big of  deal. Just turn the TV off, put the computer down, get up and go outside. But instead I just watch the clock count down the day and I know that this evening I'm going to feel like crap because I am wasting my life away. Maybe that's it. Maybe knowing that these are the best years of my life, knowing that my health and my youth are slowing but surely going to deteriorate, depresses me. I watch these days go by and I get so anxious because I know that I won't always be young and healthy and I freak completely out over what I'm going to have to show for myself during these years. Which of course feeds into the utter guilt over "I didn't get anything done today", which makes me feel even more shitty and then before I know it I'm really depressed and dull. As the day gets later and later I get more and more anxious because I think "OMG it's already 12 what have I done?" and then its "OMG it's 3 pm and I haven't done shit, and now there is not enough time to get anything done". I feel so completely stupid. I mean, seriously, who the hell has a problem with not wanting to do anything? Who out there really has a lot of time on their hands and instead of being freed by it, they feel like a prisoner? I mean come on how retarded is it that I struggle with the desire to be productive, and then feel guilty that I had to struggle in the first place? Wait, I figured it out. It's my mom's fault. My whole life she was a one woman hurricane. She took care of multiple households, worked more than full time at jobs, and still managed to have a huge supper each night and make it to band practice. She's wonder woman, and it's an example I've had my entire life. She is literally a saint, and I know no matter what I do I couldn't even hold a candle to this woman. So that's where the guilt comes from, the fact that my mom is so damn amazing and I just laze around and write a fricken blog. A blog that of course is going to get made fun of. While the world around me buzzes, I just sit and waste.

First! I'll try not to make a fool of myself.... no promises

Well, here goes. I'm completely new to this whole blogging thing. Quite frankly, I've read very few others, and I'm not really sure the whole purpose. But I think it's kinda like a public diary. A place to jot down your daily thoughts, things that are bothering you etc. Maybe even a form of confession, or a way to discuss things when you have no other outlet. At the very least, it's a break from the character restrictions of the Facebook status. For me, this blog will be all of the above. I was told once that the best form of therapy, or stress relief, was to discuss what you were thinking and how you were feeling. While those around me know that I'm not shy in this department, talking to the same people over and over again can sometimes not be as big a release as you would think. So here it is. My release. My therapy. I guarantee that not all of my blogs will be interesting, I promise that at times they will be down right offensive, and I have a good feeling that no ones going to be reading them anyway. But then again, it's not for you is it? Feel free to comment. I'm a big believe in the say what you mean to say philosophy so let er' rip.