It Is Finished

Over the course of my life, my faith has been build up and strengthened by Christians, but more ofter it has been torn down and weakened by Christians. You might say that the rock of my faith has been under consistent attack by Christians and the Church. Over the past few months, my faith has been worn down to the size of a pebble, which I have been carrying around with me, protecting it and praying that it would grow again into the flourishing faith that I once had. Finally I asked God to show me once and for if He wanted me or not. I asked for a sign that would be unmistakeable. I asked that if He loved me, that He would send someone to speak a word of compassion and caring to me, asking me if I was okay. If He was finished with me and wanted nothing more to do with me, then send me a voice of judgment and condemnation, like I have been hearing most of my life. I figured that working at a Christian institution, God could find one person to deliver the message that He wanted to send. It didn't take long. Yesterday, after lunch, a co-worker pulled me aside and asked if he could talk to me in private. Then the pebble of my faith was snatched from my hand and obliterated by a ten minute berating full of accusations and condemnations, all of which were bullshit. He demanded that I answer to him for my behavior, but when I attempted to point out his errors, my words were turned and used against me. Where I was told directly more than once that there was no place for me in a Christian workplace. I was accused of demeaning and objectifying women, an accusation that rang rather hollow since the accuser has no idea that I am gay and have no interest or attraction to women. He said that he had dealt with lust and objectifying women in the past and couldn't stand by and let me continue to do this around him. I so much wanted to just tell him that I was gay and that he was full of shit, but had I done that he probably would have started condemning me for being gay. I tried to answer him a couple of times more, only to have my answers manipulated and twisted in the most wicked way he could manage. Finally, I just stood there and withstood a further five minutes of his beratement, being told that I was un-Christlike, hypocritical, and totally undesirable as a person to work with. I left that room with my answer. It was not the answer that I had been hoping to receive, but none the less an answer.

Throughout my life, I have heard preachers speak about how Christians are the hands and feet of God, doing His will on earth. So, when a hand delivers a blow to my faith, I recognize it as the hand of God. When I feel a foot kick me when I am down, I recognize it as the foot of God. God has spoken, and what is said is that He wants nothing to do with me. So, I renounce the Church and Christianity. God has told me that I am not welcome in His Church, therefore I reject his institutions on earth. I only hope that He and His will just leave me alone, but I know better. I am sure that they will continue to make my life a living hell, treating me as filth that they must destroy and drive out, just as they have for the better part of my life.

Consummatum est.

It Is Finished

Well, I asked for it. A prayer was lifted up. An answer was desired. Today it was delivered brutally and unexpectedly. But at least now I know where I stand.

Countdown

The clock. It keeps on ticking. That incessant ticking that never ceases. The stifling tic, followed by the deafening silence before it is finally broken by the inevitable toc. The clock keeps on ticking away my life. Each second that passes brings me one second closer to my inevitable demise. Each second that passes is yet another second lost to the past, wasted by the lack of initiative that has plagued my life. Each second that passes does so in mock of my closing in on the end of my life, pressing me farther from it's beginning. Each second grows longer. Each second seems to stretch out teasingly in front of me, daring me to make a move. Daring me to break away from the slumber in which my spirit has rested for most of my life. Each second comes rushing at me before I am ready, and then seems to stop as it passes by me, taunting me to follow it into that suspended moment, living as I want without regard for others. Ultimately it speeds away behind me, becoming a distant, and all too soon, unrecallable moment, joining the billions which have proceeded it, leaving me a ready target for the next one which inevitably follows. Each second holds the potential for life or death, happiness or grief, love or hatred, construction or destruction. It soon realizes it's potential and passes swiftly into history. The next one comes along holding the same potential as it's predecessors, awaiting the same fate which befell all of them. Seconds accumulate all too quickly, turning into minutes, hours, days, and ultimately eternity. And while we will experience a minuscule number of them during our existence, it will be enough to drive us to the ultimate question that has plagued our ancestors, and will plague our descendants: WHY?