Who The Fuck Is God?

Uhg. I am feeling heavy. I feel braver these days than ever before, but still pretty fragile, sometimes brittle and weepy. Today's just one of those days.

These are some images that Debra picked off of me a few weeks ago - I inked them up and FUCK if they don't make more and more sense to me every time I look at them. These statement weep with the insecurity I felt by loving/worshipping and yearning to be closer to a dominant, angry and parental god. It was crushing me. And it's my biggest beef with the god I used to know, "God the Father."

When Debra picks stuff off of me that I have a tough time digesting, I get out my ink and go to town. It feels good to put it to paper, with thought, interpretation and purposefulness. My heart feels so small today. I have so little to give. But I think it's part of the process.

I don't want to hate god. I don't want to hate the church. I don't want to hate myself. But I distain what I became. What I was. And now I'm so mixed up in the not knowing, it's frightening. Humiliating. I hardly feel like myself. Hardly feel real.

I know I am safe, though. I am discarding all the things that gave me headaches, migraines and back pain. I am saying hello to this moment. I am at it's mercy. I want to be that enlightened flower Eckhart Tolle talks about in The New Earth.

I am removing the word HOPE from my dictionary and replacing it with BE.

I still love you, God. I do. Just not like a wanting creature, but a Being one.