Beer Blessings

There is a joke I like to say about blessings.

 "If you need some blessings....drink a beer."

In the church we are encouraged to live healthy lifestyles.  No alcohol, no wacky tabacky, no coffee, no black tea.  Everything in moderation.  We can't drink, but we sure as heck can eat!  We love our food!

Anywho.  People who live in religion tend to become very paranoid....or was that just me?

 If I forget to pray over my food everyone will have the back house trots!

  If I don't pay my tithing (10% Sucka!  It's in the bible so don't be all like..."What?  Girl, I never heard of that!") my husband will lose his job & I will have to eat raw wheat for breakfast!


 If I skip church 1 Sunday I will have a crap week...& the dog will die & my husband will lose his job & I'll get the back house trots!!!!!

If I drink a beer my house will be sucked up in a tornado!

But truth be told.....many people who have left a church, drank that beer...they seemed to be blessed.  Blessed with money, better jobs, boats, nice hair & bigger boobs.

So my joke was always....drink a beer!  Car broke down & you have no $$?  Drink a beer!  You lost your job?...drink a beer!  Kid needs braces...drink a beer!

For so many years I lived with paranoia.  It started around 10 years old when my Mom got cancer.  I felt, as a young child, that somehow I could control how my mother felt by my actions.  If I wore a certain ring she would end up in the hospital.  If I wore my heart earrings she would get better.  Superstitious child grew up to become a paranoid adult women......who joined a religion!  Geez...you want crazy thoughts....try being in my head for a day!  God & paranoia walk hand in hand down the street!

So when I decided to walk away, I had a twinge of paranoia. 

"What if God punishes me & kills my whole family?"

Then I remembered my joke....drink a beer, blessings will come.

So I left in the most non-leaving way a girl could leave & I did

Not
drink
a
beer.

Because that would be lame & immature!  But I still left.

And wouldn't you know it?  Nothing bad happened.  In fact, I became lighter & happier & those paranoid thoughts...gone!

Most nights I didn't pray.  I didn't pay tithing.  I skipped church now & then.  I drank a coffee....on THE SABBATH!  Of course once I drank that coffee I laughed at myself for being a follower, a poser, a joiner & plain silly.  Then I dumped the gross coffee mostly full in a garbage can & realised how much I liked Postum & Teeccino.  And dang it....I was gonna drink Postum instead of coffee because it was healthier & I liked it!  Flame away baby....I like POSTUM! (chilled & drenched in evaporated milk/ condensed milk over ice....heck....yeah!)

                                            Hello my darling!  Everything tastes better in a mason jar!

I drank the proverbial beer & I was still alive.  My family was still happy.  I had wicked awesome friends.  I still had some of the same day to day problems.  I still was angry at God.  I questioned the existence of Jesus Christ.  I still cared about church issues. I was still me, just without all the religious superstitions that strangled me.  I felt free to question, to doubt, to be angry, then to forget it & move on.

And yes, I was blessed too.  My husband got raises.  I got a job.  My kids were awesome.  I traveled & played more with the kids.  And my hair......looked pretty damn fine if I say so myself!

See....proof my hair didn't fall out during my wondering out in the wilderness of disbelief!

Take this religion & shove it

In my religion we have a Bishop.  A guy who is "called" to counsel the people in the church.  He doesn't get paid.  He doen't have professional training.  He's just a regulor Joe.

My Bishop happens to be my friend.

People go to the Bishop for counsel or confession or to be given recommends to go into the Temples.  Bishops stand as "judges in Israel."

I decide to be a big girl & go to my Bishop......& tell him all that was eating me up.  And let me just say....for a girl who hates to disappoint people...this little stint I was about to do made me sick.

I had to do it.  I had watched a few friends slink away form the church never to talk to their Bishop.  Never even give the guy a chance to help.  I didn't want that.  Sure...I wanted the easy way out.  But over time I found that I needed to leave my childish ways behide....& be an adult.  An adult who wasn't going to run from things anymore.  Big girl........ meet panties.

But man.....all I thought was RUNNNNNNNNNNN!

On that day 3 years ago, I walked in....& quit.  Threw my hands up & quit.

My husband knew what I was going to do & had always been supportive.  He had seen how I struggled all those years.  He knew I tried.  He knew I gave it my all.  He also knew he coundn't help me the way I needs help.

So in I walked.  The door closes behind me.  And I sat face to face with my friend....who happened to be a Bishop.

And I let it all out.

And my dear friend did a really good job being a Bishop with a slight hint of friend. 

We talked...well more like I ranted, he listend.

I laid out my demands.
1.  Help me.

That's it.  Help me.

I did have guidelines.
1. I would not take my kids out of the church.  This was my problem...not theirs.  Even though there were times I wanted to be selfish & take everyone with me.....I knew for their sakes I had to temper that desire.  If they had problems with thier religion as they got older....well then that would be their problem...and as parents, we would help them out at that time.  But in no way did I want to stress them out by removing them from the only religion they had ever known.

2.  I would turn down a big calling that was handed to me a few days ago & keep my old calling I had held for 5 years.  I would do my best to do my job.  Luckly it wasn't that hard.....I was like...the church activity cruise director. I threw parties for the church....sweet!
    This new calling they wanted to give me was actually the catalyst for my change.  I realised how deep the lie I lived if the Bishop thought I would be faithful enough for this calling.  Time to stop being fake & time to let the B-Man in on my charade. 

3. I would support my husband in his calling....oh yeah...did I mention my husband was a Bishopric counsler?  He was one of the Bishops right hand men.  Yeah...that was fun!  Having a husband who sat up on the stand every Sunday while his wife dwindled in unbelif......so fun....ya'll should try that!

My Bishop seemed to breath a sigh of relief that I wouldn't just up & leave....& that I wouldn't drag my kids through my emotional, sprirtual mess.  But I could also tell I had hurt him & freaked him out.  Here was another one of his friends trying to walk away.

A few weeks after my talk with my Bishop....my husband was released from his Bishopric calling that he had held for 4.5 years.  I'd like to think his time had come up to move on....but I knew it was because of me.  You can't have a Bishopric memeber who's wife is losing her religion.

So here I was.  A memeber in name but not my heart.  My Temple recommend willingly given up.  My husband out of a calling that killed me for the first few years.

I stood hugging my friend the Bishop as he told me he loved me.  I knew he did.  I also knew he was ready to take on this task I had placed befor him.....of helping me find a testimony of my church....or finding it false.

Walking out the door I felt relief & hope.  To celebrate I hung out with my friends and church ladies for a day.....

At the Temple.

But this time I had no recommend to go in.  I was now...on the outside.

And I had not felt that relieved or free in a long time.