The One About Swearing at God

Category: weekleez

a brief essay
february 25,2003

i swear to god, actually, lately i’ve been swearing at god, which seems like a dangerous thing to do doesn’t it? i mean, he’s this supreme, omnipotent being. and when you order something at flaco-flell and you get it supreme that means it comes with sour cream on it. so i sometimes picture god like a gary larson cartoon, a giant old man with flowing white hair and beard…made of sour cream. well, it makes it easier to swear at him anyway.

see, some people would never use swear words when they talk to god. but these same people insist that a “relationship with god” is the most important thing in the world. now, if these people don’t use swear words in their “regular life” then that’s one thing, i mean, of course they would never swear when talking/praying to the almighty, sour cream laden lord, they don’t even swear when some assjack cuts them off in traffic. i respect those people, but at the same time they make me nervous, like in that movie the stepford wives. so now i’m picturing these perfect robo-christians praying their perfect prayers humming their favorite hymn while they bake bars for the upcoming potluck and they make extra to send over to the shut-in and when they hear that something awful has happened to someone they say, “bless their heart”. and they do this everyday and maybe that’s what they mean by a relationship with god. they aren’t bad people, they just scare the hell outta me.

lucky for me i’m a Horrible Christian™.

i pray to god like i’m talking to someone who is around me all the time. and the people who are around me all the time know that i have a foul mouth and sometimes a bad attitude. why on earth would i hide that from god? he’s everywhere right? he sees me when i slam down the phone and yell a string of expletives at some moron who of course can’t hear me yell at them but i gotta get that anger out somehow. he sees me when my toilet chain snaps for the nth time and i splash around in the toilet tank cursing, swearing and damning every piece of cheap toilet gut in there. he sees me when i try to take the whole world on my shoulders thinking that i’m doing the right thing meanwhile i’m actually failing every step of the way and if only i’d ask for help i’d get help but no i’m a stubborn idiot and think that i can handle it but actually i’m just barely treading water and cursing like a sailor.

so that’s my relationship with god. it’s not rock solid by any means, but it’s honest. i mean i’ve actually prayed, “god, just…just get the hell away from me. leave me alone. you suck. amen” and i wonder where he is at times? heh. i’m an idiot.

see, i’m a Horrible Christian™. how dare i?
there’s these people out there, believers, and they are so rooted in their faith that horrible things happen to them and the ones they love, and they grin and bear it, and probably the first thing they do is pray about it.
that’s amazing.
i’d like to do that.

i mean, these people look back in the sand, see one set of footprints and say, “thanks god.” i look back and see one set of footprints and think hey, wow! is this what it’s like when god carri…wait a minute…size 7 nikes? what the? and hey where the hell am i anyway? god? *sigh* i hate the beach. shit.

i’ve been told all my life that god loves me more than anyone else can love me. he loves me when i’m bad and he loves me when i’m good and he loves me whether i’m red and yellow, black or white. yes, jesus loves me.
and somewhere in the mere pittance of my 1/32 mustard seed-sized faith, i actually believe that. i wish i believed it more. on some days when the weather is pretty and the sky is blue and the window is rolled down and i’m driving to anywhere…it’s easy to see god’s love. when it’s pouring rain and you hafta take off your socks and shoes and roll up your pants and splish-splash your way to your jeep, eh, sometimes you don’t see god’s love. but they tell me it’s there. so i believe it. mostly.

but sometimes it’s like c’mon god, throw me a bone. can’t you just see this brontosaurus-size bone flipping out of the sky and clobbering me?

like try this whole month.
february has been trying it’s hardest to kill me. sometimes i wish it would just try a little harder so we could get it over with. but see, february knows that, so it only beats me within an inch, y’know? jerk.
someone once told me that how ever weak we are that god is that much more stronger. the sarcasta-bitch side of me thinks big damn deal god’s stronger than me, what’s new? the lost soul in me goes something like this: *blink blink* that’s nice. i’m hungry. *blink*. now my sub-par relationship with god side of me says, “hey god, listen. they tell me that your really strong y’know? now see, i’m not very strong right now, er, ever. so if you could um, y’know, please if you could i dunno, spread the wealth or something? when you’re not busy of course. when you get a chance. if you want to. i’ll be over here…the one in the fetal position? yeah. that’s me. so anyway… have a nice day, sir. amen.” pathetic i know.

Horrible Christian™

so yeah i want a relationship with god. i want to turn to the big galoot when everything goes bad and i need someone to pick me up and carry me over the flaming, glass shards and rusty nails of life. i want to believe that every moment of every day god is looking down on me and shooting happy heart-shaped love beams at me. but more than believing it, i want to feel it. i want to feel one of god’s smiles…one of the ones that he’s smiling for me. i want to keep it in a jar, so that the next time i totally screw up i can pull it out and say, “yeah, but at least back in ’88 i made god smile.” or something like that.

but what i don’t want to become (and i hardly think it’s even possible) is one of those stepford christians going around telling people that god loves them god loves them god loves them. oh, your wife died in a tragic blimp accident during the superbowl? god loves you! oh, your best friend overdosed on the cocaine? god loves you! let’s pray! a loved one terminally ill? god. loves. you. hugs!

i know those folks are genuine and mean well, but yikes.
you could tell me all day long that god loves me and i’ll never believe you. never.

the other evening i was driving over to jimmy’s house and i had to stop for gas and i pumped the gas and bitched because the clasp thingy that you push down to make the gas pump without having to hold the handle so you don’t get Stinky Gas Hand wasn’t there and of course i bitched about the gas prices and that i had to put 22 bucks in the tank and i still had about a quarter of a tank left and sheesh jimmy’s so sick i wish he felt better i’ve never seen him this sick before shit i just pumped $22.02 it just figures doesn’t it?

and i went and saw jimmy and i prayed for him ‘cos he looked so sick. and it was actually a good prayer. but then towards the end i got really mad and yelled at god a bit and gave him a piece of my mind, god, you old so and so, why don’t you do something useful for a change? you are just so lame sometimes. sorry. amen.

so anyway i left jimmy’s house and as i was walking to my car my stomach went ACK! for there was a slap in the face for me as i saw my gas cap door thingy open. son of a… i can’t believe i didn’t put the gas cap back on. i never do stupid stuff like that! dad’s gonna think i’m an idiot, hell i am an idiot. what is wrong with me oh hell what a damn month this has been christ almi…

waitaminute.and as i got closer i saw that the gas cap was still sitting in the slot on the door thingy. i had to drive down 7 miles of bumpy country road to get there. there’s no way that cap could be there. heck, i went over railroad tracks! but there it was.
what a simple thing. but really it was huge.
so i looked up at the night sky, full of a million stars, and said “wow, thank you, god. that was really, really nice.”

and i’d like to think that the big guy smiled at me. one of those where one of his sour cream eye brows would raise up and with a bemused smile he would tassel my hair and say, “*sigh* jaimie, what am i going to do with you?”

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