“When I find myself in times of trouble _____________ comes to me” (3)

               

             ”Forgive me father for I have sinned, it’s been three months since my last confession,” I say to the faceless priest on the other side of the screen. I am 10 years old and searching for things to confess because if I don’t, god will hold it against me.

                

             “Yesterday, I borrowed my sister’s things without asking. I was mean to my parents. I made fun of someone in my class,” I nervously admit.

               

              “Ok child. God forgives you. Say one Our Father and three Hail Marys.”

              Phew! I can go to softball practice now without worrying about eternal damnation.

               It was my parent’s choice to raise me Roman Catholic. I had no say in the matter. From a very young age I began to feel suffocated by the teachings of the church and questioned their merit. Being forced to go to CCD when all I really wanted to do was play outside became a key factor in my teenage rebellion.

Why do I have to go to church every Sunday? Why do I need absolution from a man who knows nothing about me or my life? I highly doubted the difference between my places in heaven or hell would be determined by the conservative dress I wore to service or my abstinence from pre-marital sex.

            I dumped religion and god into the same pile of ludicrousness. At 14, I told my mother after I made my confirmation I would only attend mass on Christmas and Easter, and that was purely for her benefit and peace of mind. I did not care if I ever prayed to Jesus again (except of course when I needed him to help me ace an exam or convince my parents to extend my curfew.)
            When I entered high school the concept of god became completely obsolete. He was replaced by the savior of alcohol and the bar became my church. I learned all I thought I needed to know about life there. Resolution and validation could be found at the bottom of every bottle; shots of bourbon became my penance. From the ages of 16 to 24 I ran wild with careless abandon, caring only about myself and what I could get from others to fulfill my selfish needs. I did everything I could to portray the image of someone who believed in nothing and needed no one. Life had no substance and people were just faces in a crowd.

            Towards the end of my drinking career, I began to feel the effects of my closed minded loneliness. What was my purpose in life? Why am I here? My way of living life was getting me nowhere except embarrassed, depressed, disconnected and regretful. When I finally grabbed hold of an unseen, outstretched hand and allowed something besides myself to take the reins, I got sober and changed my life. I had my first light bulb about god at an AA meeting during a reading from the big book:

(Chap. 4 WE AGNOSTICS)

                    (pg.46) With that rejection we imagine we had abandoned the God idea entirely. We were bothered with the thought that faith and dependence upon a Power greater than ourselves was somewhat weak, even cowardly. We looked upon this world of warring individuals, warring theological systems, and inexplicable calamity, with deep skepticism. We looked askance at many individuals who claimed to be godly. How could a Supreme Being have anything to do with it all? And who could comprehend a Supreme Being anyhow?  Yet, in other moments, we found ourselves thinking, when enchanted by a starlit night, “Who, then, made all this? There was a feeling of awe and wonder, but it was fleeting and soon lost.

            I was never a full blown atheist, but I didn’t think I needed religion or whatever spirit in the clouds was hovering above my halo-less head. My issues with organized religion manifested into a dark and despairing black hole, slowly sucking me into the abyss of alcohol, sex, gluttony and ruin. But in my new found clarity, I discovered my injustices of thought.

            (pg49-50) We have learned that whatever the human frailties of various faiths may be, those faiths have given purpose and directions to millions. People of faith have a logical understanding of what life is all about. Actually, we used to have no reasonable conception whatsoever. We used to amuse ourselves by cynically dissecting spiritual beliefs and practices when we might have observed that many spiritually-minded persons of all races, colors, and creeds were demonstrating a degree of stability, happiness and usefulness which we should have sought ourselves. Instead, we looked at the human defects of these people, and sometimes used their shortcomings as a basis of wholesale condemnation. We talked of intolerance, while we were intolerant ourselves. We missed the reality and the beauty of the forest because we were diverted by the ugliness of some of its trees.

            With this new found support from people in recovery just like me, I learned I could take it slow and form my own conception of a higher power. It could be whatever I wanted it to be. I wrote down all the qualities I looked for in a best friend or companion and formed my conception based on those. For many years, my best friend and lover was a liquid; terrible, cunning, manipulative and abusive. Without even realizing, I had been devoted and reliant upon something more powerful than myself all along.

            (pg 54) We found, too, that we had been worshippers. What a state of mental goose-flesh that used to bring on! Had we not variously worshipped people, sentiments, things, money, and ourselves? And then, with a better motive, had we not worshipfully beheld the sunset, the sea, or a flower? Who of us had not loved something or somebody?

            Today I consider myself to be spiritual, not religious, and that works for me. I see my higher power in many different forms: in the kindness of strangers; in my parent’s unwavering strength and hope; in the friends who have stuck by me. I have to admit there is a comfort in knowing something out there in the universe has my back, like a loved one waiting in the wings with flowers and a hug to congratulate me on a job well done. I do not dismiss religious people or their beliefs. My mother’s faith has gotten her through some very tough times. But for me, religious texts serve the same purpose as the childhood fables my teachers and parents used to teach me important lessons. They carry an overall message. 

“Pride goeth before the fall” is a prescription I take daily. I cannot do this alone. I cannot be so arrogant as to think everything is in my control, because most things are not. “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you ” is something I strive to adhere to at all times. Humility is one of the most attractive qualities a person can have, and that cannot be possessed without the understanding that you are but a brush stroke in the portrait of life.

            It does not matter who or what you choose to believe in as long as you have faith. Imagine Paul McCartney singing whatever works for you: Mother Mary; Jesus Christ: the roses in your garden; Brandon Boyd; The Simpsons; a tropical oasis; your family. 

            Currently, I see my higher power in Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. Tomorrow it may be in the friends I meet in AA, and the next day, a saintly figure. So choose an entity, a belief system or your own conception of what it all means, because after all,

                                

            (pg 64) Who are you to say there is no God?

MACKLEMORE & RYAN LEWIS- NEON CATHEDRAL

**Take what you like and leave the rest**