I am tired of fighting.
Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2005 7:58 pm
Chist has an interesting way of being both in ones face and out of sight. I have had several incidents in my life, that question all my simple answers. I have always accepted there is a God, and that God knows what goes on.
In 1963 I swollowed drain-o about 65 miles from a small town hospital, and we had no vehicle. Lots of surgery, no apparent damage, my stomach is not the same, but hey. In 1965 I fell off the roof of our barn, maybe 40 feet, walked away with a small cut on my forehead.
In 1979 I was hit in a cross walk by a drunk driver, It was hard, but I walked away, my brother was asleep for three days in the hospital. In 1981 I was shot in the cheek, the bullet hit my upper jawbone and bounce straight back, left a small prefect circle that healed so I can barely see. I've since lost that tooth.
Who am I going to cry to; who would listen If I said life was unfair and cruel punishment. These are what I call spectacular events, because it is not hard to look around and see how lightly I have been touched by these events. Other stuff takes longer to work out.
I have been fighting against any help from God for so long. Christian, I was quick to remind have flown their flags over so many battlefields, so many clear injustices. How long have I taken someone say 'I am a Christian', and assumed that to indicate that the words will be nice, but they are up to no good.
Of course it is not Christians, it's men saying they are Christian, or worse sheep following someone because they say they are Christian, but their bellies are fat, and their skin is sallow. They didn't see my father answer the door late, for us kids, at night to a ragged smell old man saying he was hungry. They didn't see my father sit him down and make him food.
But when they say these men that fight there wifes and beat their children, and drink and do the devils work. They don't see someone who cried because they don't know what else to do. I saw a small part of my fathers life, and it was wild. For some one who said very nasty things about some Christians we encountered, for him spilt blood, meant more than kind words.
He said many times, and I thought it a copout; do as I say not as I do. He also told me to trust no more than half of what anybody says. He also made sure we attended service, and he challenge, our understanding of the bible, forcing us to read it. Curious thing given the things he said and did. I am not sure my father had issue with Christ, just Christians; there is a world of difference.
I don't drink and I don't fight and I don't beat my children, sometimes we fight, but only with words, and God knows sometimes they are right. We try to get along, it true we fight. I was a mean teenager, for never being over 115 pounds, I got over it. My children have all been fighters, they are quicker than I ever was.
Like my father, because I speak out against people who just want to be the puppet-master to obedience sheep. Though they are not necessisarily doing Christs work, but using the name anyway. Because they obey, some leaders theme, and he says he's a Christian, it must be good.
When my Christian community, it says so on the sign, fight as individuals, to close the soup kitchen, because it is attracting some of the 'lowlifes,' and it was hurting business. To my shame, I did nothing, I think my Dad would be uninpressed with me for that. I know who those 'lowlifes' are, they are my family.
I have been told, by ministers, more than several, that I am not a Christian. I have never argued the point. My dad didn't care what church we went to, the one that did the most for kids. The only restrictions he put on that, is that it not be catholic. That's where his grand-parents sent him, and the other, that the church use the bible.
He showed us how people live in the wild, by all of us living in the wild, he showed us about living on reservations by us living on reservations. Making do and being scrond with everyone else we lived with, he showed us how people live in the city by us living in the city. Everywhere we went he made us show him that we understood, how things work.
The first time he didn't beat me for what he considered a serious transgression, he pick up a wooden stick a little less than three feet long. I had been through this before, it hurts, you get over it.
But he stopped, turned around, went back to his chair and sat down. Put the stick down, put his hand to his head, and said, I just don't understand you, you are so different. He closed his eyes, and fell asleep, no pain has ever periced me, as those words. He never said to anyone he was Christian, but I think, no one ever asked me more than he did, what did Christ say about that?
It has been thirty years since, and two-thirds of my life since he died. I am not righteous even in my earthy fathers eyes, I don't hold out hope. I sit at home, I can't even go out the door to feed my own family, if not for others, we would be street people.
If I have to go and be with people, I end up crying, as I have over this. There is nothing inherently wrong with a fat belly and sallow skin, these are charactures not indicitive of any real people other than those who achieve it through decadence. Money use to be a symbol of financial worth, then it had some evil characteristics.
Everywhere I see money worshiped; something has changed. I see people chase it, their tongues alull. In churches as much as anywhere. We justify everything with words, I use to find it comical when both sides in the old war movies would have someone in authority swear with an open bible, that God was on their side.
Puppets and puppet-masters. With only grade eight, I got to work in the brokerage for nine years, doing trades, doing sales, doing paperwork. Everyone I worked with had University educations, who worked that lucky break out for me? More than a few asked me questions and listen to what I had to say.
We are silly humans. What did I know, everyday I worried my lack of education and ignorance would show through, someone asked a question I had and answer or found one quick. I did those things and I saw those things, I know who the puppets are, some people even call us that. You can not smell trouble with your eyes. Everyone was a Christian, people hang it out like a badge.
Some very many who profess to be Christians are mere puppets following men and women. The suits are fine, the dresses are fine, the words are polished and composed. It is maximum sweetness, while real people are getting the slice and dice side of the equations. Maybe if we didn't beat the dog he wouldn't bite.
I can't tell you what gives me the right to say these things, if you check with me I shouldn't be here anyway, I didn't ask for any of my blessings. Yet I have them anyway - It is not some joy to go up to the market, and come home battered, by what other people could dream to say out loud, not to me, to each other. But as is fair the wounds I feel most are those I would suppose upon others.
But if I hate the churches, and I hate to watch the worship of money, and I hate the lies. It was in the churches I learn that people worship money. The collection plate was the one constant, and it went around in public to shame any that could not offer up. But hey I was just a kid; It has taken me long to realize that God is not to blame.
Over the years of my life I have been approached by people I know with large sums on money that was not theirs. They didn't come to me because I am criminal, they came because they thought they were in trouble, and they were. They wanted to know what to do. My first question, can we return it.
No body ever wants to do that, My only other sound advise is give it to God. They know I am going to say that. If all you did, I say, is come for my approval, then I say give it to God, give some to God, give a bit to God, do yourself a favour. Otherwise give it back, say no, say sorry, do what you have to do, it will be better.
What can anyone do? I didn't ask them to trust me. They came to me, what am I suppose to do? I am the last person anyone should come to for Christian advise. How do I know it would be better? I don't, in fact I know just the opposite to be true. People seldom appreciate the act of attonement as anything at all, and the price for daring to take money - off the wall. It's not better, it only good to do.
Sincerely
Steven Maurice
In 1963 I swollowed drain-o about 65 miles from a small town hospital, and we had no vehicle. Lots of surgery, no apparent damage, my stomach is not the same, but hey. In 1965 I fell off the roof of our barn, maybe 40 feet, walked away with a small cut on my forehead.
In 1979 I was hit in a cross walk by a drunk driver, It was hard, but I walked away, my brother was asleep for three days in the hospital. In 1981 I was shot in the cheek, the bullet hit my upper jawbone and bounce straight back, left a small prefect circle that healed so I can barely see. I've since lost that tooth.
Who am I going to cry to; who would listen If I said life was unfair and cruel punishment. These are what I call spectacular events, because it is not hard to look around and see how lightly I have been touched by these events. Other stuff takes longer to work out.
I have been fighting against any help from God for so long. Christian, I was quick to remind have flown their flags over so many battlefields, so many clear injustices. How long have I taken someone say 'I am a Christian', and assumed that to indicate that the words will be nice, but they are up to no good.
Of course it is not Christians, it's men saying they are Christian, or worse sheep following someone because they say they are Christian, but their bellies are fat, and their skin is sallow. They didn't see my father answer the door late, for us kids, at night to a ragged smell old man saying he was hungry. They didn't see my father sit him down and make him food.
But when they say these men that fight there wifes and beat their children, and drink and do the devils work. They don't see someone who cried because they don't know what else to do. I saw a small part of my fathers life, and it was wild. For some one who said very nasty things about some Christians we encountered, for him spilt blood, meant more than kind words.
He said many times, and I thought it a copout; do as I say not as I do. He also told me to trust no more than half of what anybody says. He also made sure we attended service, and he challenge, our understanding of the bible, forcing us to read it. Curious thing given the things he said and did. I am not sure my father had issue with Christ, just Christians; there is a world of difference.
I don't drink and I don't fight and I don't beat my children, sometimes we fight, but only with words, and God knows sometimes they are right. We try to get along, it true we fight. I was a mean teenager, for never being over 115 pounds, I got over it. My children have all been fighters, they are quicker than I ever was.
Like my father, because I speak out against people who just want to be the puppet-master to obedience sheep. Though they are not necessisarily doing Christs work, but using the name anyway. Because they obey, some leaders theme, and he says he's a Christian, it must be good.
When my Christian community, it says so on the sign, fight as individuals, to close the soup kitchen, because it is attracting some of the 'lowlifes,' and it was hurting business. To my shame, I did nothing, I think my Dad would be uninpressed with me for that. I know who those 'lowlifes' are, they are my family.
I have been told, by ministers, more than several, that I am not a Christian. I have never argued the point. My dad didn't care what church we went to, the one that did the most for kids. The only restrictions he put on that, is that it not be catholic. That's where his grand-parents sent him, and the other, that the church use the bible.
He showed us how people live in the wild, by all of us living in the wild, he showed us about living on reservations by us living on reservations. Making do and being scrond with everyone else we lived with, he showed us how people live in the city by us living in the city. Everywhere we went he made us show him that we understood, how things work.
The first time he didn't beat me for what he considered a serious transgression, he pick up a wooden stick a little less than three feet long. I had been through this before, it hurts, you get over it.
But he stopped, turned around, went back to his chair and sat down. Put the stick down, put his hand to his head, and said, I just don't understand you, you are so different. He closed his eyes, and fell asleep, no pain has ever periced me, as those words. He never said to anyone he was Christian, but I think, no one ever asked me more than he did, what did Christ say about that?
It has been thirty years since, and two-thirds of my life since he died. I am not righteous even in my earthy fathers eyes, I don't hold out hope. I sit at home, I can't even go out the door to feed my own family, if not for others, we would be street people.
If I have to go and be with people, I end up crying, as I have over this. There is nothing inherently wrong with a fat belly and sallow skin, these are charactures not indicitive of any real people other than those who achieve it through decadence. Money use to be a symbol of financial worth, then it had some evil characteristics.
Everywhere I see money worshiped; something has changed. I see people chase it, their tongues alull. In churches as much as anywhere. We justify everything with words, I use to find it comical when both sides in the old war movies would have someone in authority swear with an open bible, that God was on their side.
Puppets and puppet-masters. With only grade eight, I got to work in the brokerage for nine years, doing trades, doing sales, doing paperwork. Everyone I worked with had University educations, who worked that lucky break out for me? More than a few asked me questions and listen to what I had to say.
We are silly humans. What did I know, everyday I worried my lack of education and ignorance would show through, someone asked a question I had and answer or found one quick. I did those things and I saw those things, I know who the puppets are, some people even call us that. You can not smell trouble with your eyes. Everyone was a Christian, people hang it out like a badge.
Some very many who profess to be Christians are mere puppets following men and women. The suits are fine, the dresses are fine, the words are polished and composed. It is maximum sweetness, while real people are getting the slice and dice side of the equations. Maybe if we didn't beat the dog he wouldn't bite.
I can't tell you what gives me the right to say these things, if you check with me I shouldn't be here anyway, I didn't ask for any of my blessings. Yet I have them anyway - It is not some joy to go up to the market, and come home battered, by what other people could dream to say out loud, not to me, to each other. But as is fair the wounds I feel most are those I would suppose upon others.
But if I hate the churches, and I hate to watch the worship of money, and I hate the lies. It was in the churches I learn that people worship money. The collection plate was the one constant, and it went around in public to shame any that could not offer up. But hey I was just a kid; It has taken me long to realize that God is not to blame.
Over the years of my life I have been approached by people I know with large sums on money that was not theirs. They didn't come to me because I am criminal, they came because they thought they were in trouble, and they were. They wanted to know what to do. My first question, can we return it.
No body ever wants to do that, My only other sound advise is give it to God. They know I am going to say that. If all you did, I say, is come for my approval, then I say give it to God, give some to God, give a bit to God, do yourself a favour. Otherwise give it back, say no, say sorry, do what you have to do, it will be better.
What can anyone do? I didn't ask them to trust me. They came to me, what am I suppose to do? I am the last person anyone should come to for Christian advise. How do I know it would be better? I don't, in fact I know just the opposite to be true. People seldom appreciate the act of attonement as anything at all, and the price for daring to take money - off the wall. It's not better, it only good to do.
Sincerely
Steven Maurice