Surprised by Oxford

Surprised by Oxford by Carolyn Weber, my Oxford planner with this weeks picture, and my Oxford bookmark. Love.

If you’ll recall I posted about this book when I found it, my excitement got the better of me, I’ll be honest.  I finished it last night, which would have been sooner but finals got in my way, much to my chagrin.  I thought it was a pretty good book, it did not meet my excitement expectations, but that might be more my fault than the author!

I enjoyed reading it, in large part because it takes place in Oxford.  Not only in Oxford, but at my college at Oxford, Oriel.  So, as she was describing scenes that take place at various places in the college and around town, I can bring up the image exactly.  I’m posting some of my photos with this blog, so maybe you can have a similar excitement! When she talked about the dining hall, or St. Mary’s Church, punting parties, pubs, or walking the labrynthian streets… my heart melted.  If you have never visited Oxford for a period of time, you don’t understand what the City of Dreaming Spires can do to the heart.

“The world, surely, has not another place like Oxford: it is a despair to see such a place and ever to leave it.” – Nathaniel Hawthorne

A lot of the book I could relate to, obviously.  The low income girl invited to Oxford; I know my mother and step father went further into debt to buy me the plane ticket.  In the story the author has family issues, mostly father issues.  Though our stories are a bit different there, I could still relate to some of the things that ran through her mind in the story about men and being saved.  My issues with men aren’t entirely all about my father; it’s about a repeatedly abandoning father, an insane, drug addicted, abusive previous step father, and young men who made me an object for their taking.  I’m inspired that she came to terms with her father issues with the help of Christianity, and Christians, but it might take a bit more work for me to get there, unfortunately.  I found that underlying part of the story inspiring, anyway.  I knew I would find some similarities reading this book about a girl who leaves for Oxford and runs across religion, but I related to a lot more than that.  To be honest, I related, in some way, to everything in the book up until her conversion.  Sounds about right, doesn’t it?

There were a couple scenes in the book that pulled at me, three that I can think of this morning: 1) the high table scene, 2) the bridge of sighs replica scene, and 3) the finding Bible passages in church scene.

1. The High Table.  In this part of the book she was invited to sit at The High Table at Oriel for an evening, which is an honor and a bit scary! The conversation for the evening apparently turned to the idea of a higher power and science, which is always a fun debate.  Personally, as a student who is entering graduate medical school this fall, what the guest doctor said pulled at my heart a bit.

Sitting in Oriel College Dining Hall.

“I’ve come to the conclusion that God is sovereign, even over science, and that I cannot pretend to fully know His ways.  They really are mysterious, as the saying goes.  And they are not of the mind of men, no matter how hard we try to wrap our minds about these ways.  I can marvel at the intricacies of the human body, which really are pretty miraculous to behold.  In fact, I don’t know how one can go to medical school and not be in greater awe of a Creator than ever before…”

The evening wore on and one of the workers at the college asked a prominent High Table guest as he was leaving what the greatest force in the universe was.  This would be a kind of social faux pas in this type of event, but the guest was ever gracious and the answer was one of those statements you stop reading and process for a minute.

“There is nothing more powerful, more radical, more transformational than love.  No other source or substance or force.  And do not be deceived, for it is all of these things, and then some! Often folks like to dismiss it as a mere emotion, but it is far more than that.  It can’t be circumscribed by our desires or dictated by the whim of our moods.  Not the Great Love of the Universe, as I like to call it.  Not the Love that set everything in motion, keeps it in motion, which moves through all things and yet bulldozes nothing, not even our will.  Try it.  Just try it and you’ll see.  If you love that Great Love first, because it loved you first, and then love yourself as you have been loved, and then love others from that love… Wow! Bam! Life without that kind of faith – that’s death.  Therein lies the great metaphor, Miss Drake.  Life without faith is death.  For life, as it was intended to be, is love.  Start loving and you’ll really start living.  There is no other force in the universe comparable to that.”

2. The Bridge of Sighs Replica Scene

"Bridge of Sighs" Replica

This was just a sweet scene described in the book.  She was processing Christianity being sort of the great bridge of life and somehow in there the people around her started singing Christmas carols, in June, right where this picture was taken (by me!).  It was a nice scene, and a topic I’m still trying to process:  What Christianity IS.

3. The Bible in Church Scene.

St. Mary's Church, Oxford

I laughed at this scene.  This happens to be every single time I go to a church.  I don’t even TRY to find the Bible passages they’re talking about, because I never will.  I still have trouble looking something up with this number system the Bible has.  I absolutely understand how she felt in this scene!

“Attending church always made me feel so incompetent.  When the pastor announced the Scripture reading, everyone around me seemed to open the Bible to the correct page on the first try.  Meanwhile, I would feign nonchalance while breaking a sweat, flipping though the Old and New Testaments as through creating a cartoon, all the time painfully aware of how much noise those tissue-paper pages make in the silence before the reading.  Which book of the Bible followed which?  What was the funky name of that prophet again?  You mean, like Microsoft programs, more than one “version” exists of Samuel, Kings, Chronicles, Corinthians, Thessalonians, Timothy, Peter and John?  Finally, in embarrassed frustration, I would have to resort to the table of contents.  And by then, the reading would be over……

I looked at everyone around me, worshipping so capably, singing so beautifully, flipping their Bibles open so artfully – all that confidence and familiarity taken for granted…

I, who did not have an upbringing steeped in Sunday school or trained in the timing of genuflection.  I, who did not know all the words to all the hymns, who did not know if Jacob came before Joseph, who could not keep the regions where Jesus traveled straight, who could not name all the disciples without pause.  What’s a psalm, and what’s a proverb?  Who wrote that?  Who had which vision?

I, of the Great Deficiency…”

St. Mary's Church, Oxford

Yep… that’s me! I know that feeling oh so well at this point.  I just try to sit back and watch at this point, but I feel like that every single time I go to a church.  It warmed my heart to learn I’m not the only one.  I certainly stick out at church, as someone new to the specific church, alone, usually dressed in black, someone who clearly has no idea what’s going on… ever.  Oh yeah, I stick out…. But I keep going, don’t I?  Four months and I STILL don’t know what’s happening in a timely manner.  I know a lot of the time Christians can’t process that I don’t know about Christianity.  They just can’t wrap their mind around that, they just don’t understand having never went to church.  You wouldn’t believe the wide eyed stares I can get when I say that, and the response is 90% of the time “Really?” YES REALLY! No, I’m just saying that to you for fun.  I’m just admitting my great deficiency while being here to get a rise out of you!…. The other 10% of the time they’ll get overly excited and start babbling Christianese to me.  I understand their excited, but they still don’t process I don’t know what they’re talking about.  Last week, though, a parishioner of the Episcopalian church had a great answer.  I said, “No, I’m not new to the area, I’m new to Christianity.  I’m not Christian….I’m working on it.”  He responded in kind, “ah! I understand.  When someone asks me if I’m Christian, I always respond that I’m working to become a Christian still!”  It was a nice response, witty and honest.  There was no shock or awe to his voice, and I appreciated that.

My favorite picture I took from St. Mary's tower

AAAAANYWAY! It was a fun read, and I enjoyed it up until her conversion.  I enjoyed it after that, but I understood it less at that point.  It was the great epiphany moment, I wish she would have described that even more than she did.  I understand it might be difficult to describe, and it would have made the book probably twice the size! I would have enjoyed reading more about that phase of her story.

Do any churches do Evensong in the US? I had professors and friends invite me while in Oxford, and I never went.  I regret that.

Ritual Energy

I thought this would be a fun, close to Beltane post.

I know on many occasions people have heard me talk about this elusive term “energy.”  It sounds all silly, new-agey, crazy, or perhaps random psychobabble to some people.  If you are one of those people, that’s fine, just ignore this post and press on with your day.  No harm done.   Other people will know exactly what I’m talking about without me trying to explain, but this elusive term “energy” plays a pivotal role in both Pagan and Christian rituals.  Sometimes Christians will call a certain version of this “energy” the Holy Spirit, so perhaps Christians have some concept of what I’m talking about.  I think when Christians talk about other Christians “getting into the moment” with their hands raised, singing with joy without a care in the world… I think we’re on the same page here.

R-r-r-r-r-ituals

I think it’s safe to say that I’m a ritual dancer; that really comes as no surprise to those who know me.  I’ve been a guest of a number of Pagan/Wiccan covens, but I have never committed anywhere.  What happens is they invite me sometimes as a guest or “friend of said coven”, sometimes as a guest dancer.  I’ve had times where I was a ritual dancer at one coven, and later a friend would invite me to her coven and the high priestess would exclaim “I know you! Amadahy! Everyone, this is Amadahy, she’s a beautiful bellydancer!”  It’s all very sweet, but a bit awkward when I just came to sit quietly with a friend.

During Pagan rituals, people use language and/or movement to encourage and direct energy, sort of as an offering to the spiritual world.  Seems like the same thing is trying to happen at Christian Church Sundays, but that’s just my opinion.  Anyway, I’m not too great with literally talking during ritual.  It’s as if that, rather important, part of my brain shuts off and the feeling and leading with the heart and soul takes over.  I use movement to express what someone else would say out loud.

I’ve expressed how I get lost in drum circles; how I cannot help myself.  Initially I listen to those around me, but as a drum circle progresses I’m no longer “there.”  Starting a dance is generally mellow, quiet movements…then they change into more “pop and lock” tricks and this is where you’ll start to see me grin like the Cheshire cat… after a while you can see my eyes unfocus and I’ll start spinning more and more.  What’s happening?  The mellow starting movements are an introduction to the surrounding energy, the tricks are a gathering of that energy (especially when people return the same movement), and, after a bit, a connection between the ground and the spiritual develops and that energy is drawn around the people, around me, and returns to where it belongs (the spiritual).  I spin with it, and I give my everything up.  When I was more inexperienced with this there were a number of times I would “Come back” and someone would have to catch me before I hit the floor.  Years ago I would sometimes do this alone, and my husband wouldn’t think anything of finding me laying on the floor all dressed up in dance gear.  He’d pick me up and put me to bed lol.  He’s been to large holiday rituals with me, where I’ve danced, and passed out in the car on the way home.  I’ve gotten better at control, and this doesn’t really happen anymore.

Come join with us in our rune tonight
And feel the circle spin
Let your spirit soar in the lunar light
As the Spiral Dance begins

There are some terrible times when that connection gets dropped for whatever reason, and it is very hard on me.  Some people at rituals are there for the community of it all, and they don’t always know what’s going on around them.  My current problem is I don’t know what to do when that connection gets dropped prematurely.  I tend to twitch for a couple days.  I’ve stood at the local Pagan shop chatting, shaking my leg back and forth… the High Priest of the shop telling me how I need to take some time for “grounding” so I’ll stop twitching.  It’s easy for me to establish a connection with the spiritual; it’s not so easy to bring me back prematurely.  There is a fun term for one reason why this connection gets dropped occasionally, and usually the person who causes this doesn’t realize they’re doing it.  I’ve heard them referred to as “energy vampires” or “psychic vampires,”  they take the energy from the circle and make it their own.  It gets sucked into, and stuck in them.  They usually discuss how wonderful and energized they feel after a ritual, while I’m shaking, shoving fruit down my face.

I’ve never seen a Christian ritual dancer, and I don’t know how else to worship.  I feel that Christian Sundays and Pagan Rituals are attempting to work with the same energy, but the Pagans are more ecstatic, or perhaps more open to it.  My Christian friend told me once that sometimes Christians can be afraid of what she calls “The Holy Spirit.”  I don’t think they realize what a luxury it is, to be able to just pass by that energy.  It’s a luxury to not listen to God/dess.  She (I’m going to use She here because that’s what I’m familiar with) doesn’t give me that option.  If She calls me, I come to Her.. there is no discussion. Maybe in the future I’ll be more comfortable with discussing how that works.  I think we all might need a slow introduction to these more obscure topics.  This post was an introduction, we’ll see how I feel with it later.

I do plan some posts about Christians and Pagans, which will be fun to work on in the future.

The Divine Confection

The week before Beltane (May 1) I like to go on a “cleanse.”  Not one of those semi ridiculous weird fasting cleanses I’m sure you’ve heard about.  I go vegan for the week, and I add on no alcohol, soda, or other overly sugary drink.   Unfortunately, this year this holiday fell on a not so fantastic time to be cutting all these amazing things from my life.  I have two anatomy finals this weekend, and I’m just starting to “enjoy” a particular part of the month where I demand chocolate satisfaction.  It’s the perfect storm….

Husband and I went out last night for some tasty Mediterranean.  I received a gift from God/dess, a get me through godsend of amazing epic-ness:

 

I was munching through my hummus and almond rice salad when I hear “Oh, that’s our vegan chocolate cupcake”  I turned around to stare at whatever the lady was pointing to and my husband says “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you whip your head around that fast….” I got up, put two dollars on the table, and demanded vegan chocolate satisfaction! lol I sat back down with my husband, looked at him and said “It’s a gift from God….“

Spiritual Mentorship

Last week I babbled on about my sometimes bratty attitude towards gender and faith.  This is really my own issue, and I don’t think Christians should change their speech patterns in any way.  It is my issue to work through, and I need Christians to stand strong in whatever gender language they want to use.  The pastor on Sunday did just that.  He stood by his comments, and I can work with that.  I can’t work with wishy-washy, appease all type attitudes.

The pastor was speaking this past Sunday about spiritual mentorship, good deeds; a topic that seems wholesome and simplistic at the surface.  What in the world about that would make me defensive?  He was discussing how we are, or should be, taught good behavior… in this case good Christian behavior.  He gave credit where it was due to his mother who taught him about being a Christian, which is lovely if you’re blessed with that kind of family.  I was sitting in the back in my black bitter haze thinking “That’s nice… what about the rest of us?  If I followed that example I certainly wouldn’t be sitting here today”

This is where my other strange, bitter attitude towards Christians come into play, which really has nothing to do with Christianity:  The clean, perfect Christians; I am well aware that’s a fallacy, but it takes some time to break down stuff like that.  Growing up, the Catholic school kids where always so clean, put together, and their families were picking them up and it all seemed so perfect when I was a kid.  I sat there watching the families, wondering where my mother disappeared to for months, or where my father’s been for even more months…. I’d consistently be dirty, and my hair wild.  Couple years later I picture the Christian kids all warm in their beds, while I drove my drunk father home from a bonfire party in the woods when I could barely see over the steering wheel.  I just perceived myself as so far outside of that world.  I’ve never been very familiar with the straight and narrow path, I suppose.  I’m up in the tree, that’s how far off the straight and narrow path I am.  That’s the thing, I’m alone in the tree.  I don’t have a mentor, and I’ve never had a life mentor.  I’ve made it this far making it up as I go along, and so I get defensive over being told I need a mentor and/or this Jesus fellow to do good things.  If I take a step by from my defensive attitude, I think about all the poor decisions I’ve made and the situations they led me to.  I think about how it really could have all been prevented with a life guide, or even if I would have sat back and listened to the warning signs God (lets say) was throwing at me.  I was exchanging some emails with this pastor and he said “I think you are a good person.  I know you are a good person.  I wasn’t saying that you cannot be good without Jesus.  But in a way I was saying this very thing.  It is arrogant to think we can be good all by ourselves.  As humans, we need a higher moral code than what we might assign ourselves.  History proves this.  We need help being good.”

“We need a higher moral code than what we might assign ourselves”  Truth.  I would not have made it very far with the moral code assigned by my family, but I think we can sometimes get hints to a higher moral code from the spiritual (think: God), even without a real life spiritual mentor.   It was somewhere in the past couple days I realized these semiautomatic defenses have to come down.  My running life goal is to break as many family cycles as I possibly can.  I’m working now, in my twenties, to build a foundation that was never built for me.  There’s a bit of luxury in that, because I can build it any way I see fit at this point; I don’t have to break down and rebuild something that’s not there.

I might have started Sunday with a black cloud over my head, and the pastor’s sermon was no help at all…. But he was right. “Eventually, you will land somewhere that suits you and nourishes your spiritual needs.  When that happens, you will still need a mentor.  You will still need a person or group of people to guide you through the learning process.“

Christian Paintings

I can often be somewhat scared off or confused with Christian artwork, but I always find it interesting. The local art museum has so many Christian paintings, and I’m hoping to go again this summer. I just had a brilliant idea. SARA! You should take a vacation and visit me. We’ll go, and you can explain things to me! YES! SAAARRRAAAA! Bring Karen and we’ll go to the zoo!
Anyway, maybe on a second visit I’ll understand some of the paintings at the museum.
I love these two paintings, and I’m actually comfortable with them. lol Can I have them, please?

"Light of the World" - William Hunt

"Immaculate Heart of Mary" - Smith Catholic Art

Here’s a Question

There’s an odd story to this question.  The morning of my wedding last year I was sitting on the hotel bed with my maid of honor, and two bridesmaids, enjoying my decaf pumpkin spice latte, spacing out a bit.  In the meantime, by bridesmaids were in a ranging debate about whether or not Jesus went to hell.  I believe that is what they were debating, and how that started is beyond me.  I sat there enjoying my latte, loving their fairly feisty debate, even if I really wasn’t too savvy on what they were talking about.  The morning of this random Pagan’s wedding, we were discussing Jesus…. stranger things have happened.

Someone mentioned this idea the other day, and I don’t remember why.

So, in this whole Jesus story, did Jesus go to hell… and why?

Episcopalian Church Sunday

Episcopalian Church Sunday! I went to this church’s Good Friday service before I left state for my hometown, and I met with this Church’s pastor.  I’m never too savvy on what they prefer to be called.. Priest, pastor, reverend, their name.  I pretty much perpetually screw this up.

Like a Bat Out of Hell

I pulled up today in my normal rock’n’roll fashion.  I said that during this project I wouldn’t hide who I am, and I’ve stuck to that little ditty.  I had my favorite/only pair that fit dress pants on, dark purple pumps, black shirt, dark purple painted eyes, black wing gauged ear rings, and my Harley Davidson military style sweater on.  I also had on my, personally made for me, fashion rosary.  I designed it, my husband put it together, and I adore it.  It’s a couple inches longer than a traditional rosary, and it has a Fleur de Lis at the bottom instead of a crucifix.  I pulled up outside the church listening to a remake of Kiss’s “Unholy,” which amused me to an obscene amount.  I was messing around on my phone for a minute, and an older lady walked past me with wary glances before she went into the church.  At least I wasn’t belting out the song as loud as I possibly could, that would be the freak tipping point I think.  Prior to that I was driving listening to Dope’s version of “Rebel Yell.”  As I said once before, I describe my relationship to God as a rebel love song.  I was having a grand ‘ol morning, lol.  I hope the older lady was having a good morning too; I certainly was.

Anyway, Episcopalian service! When people call Episcopalians “Catholic Lite,”  I now get it.  It was obviously similar, but there was a lot less pressure in the air.  It was formal, but informal… a fairly decent balance between the two I thought.  I followed along the best I could; they put a lot of their…um…ritual words?  I don’t know… they put it all in their little program, and I found that helpful.  Nicene Creed…other things I don’t know.  I have no idea what to call these things.  Creeds and poems.

I found myself defensive over what the pastor was discussing, which means I probably should sit down with it for a while.  That will probably be a post on it’s own sometime later.

He did mention something about the Easter zombie Jesus joke, and I couldn’t help but sit in the back and snicker.  The night before Easter my friends and I was sitting around a fire singing hymns to zombie Jesus.  The practicing Catholic of the group was leading that one, it was a lovely time.  The resident Pagan/Witch of the group (me lol), had nothing to do with this…. It was the Catholics.   I didn’t know the traditional hymns enough to parody them the way the Catholics could.

I was getting ready to leave afterwards, and I got surrounded by people who wished to speak with the alone newcomer.  I said my greetings and appreciations, and was still going to try to make a break for the door… it didn’t work out how I planned.  I was fairly quickly whisked away to coffee hour, which was fine.  I’m not sure I had much choice in the matter.  I was talking to an older gentleman who was a Psychologist and from the Chicago area for some time, clearly we had things in common to discuss.  A number of people said hi, and I have no idea who they are still.  I am terrible with names, to a degree that is sometimes unreasonable.  So, that was my first coffee hour.  It got to the point I started getting text from my husband: “Did they start getting stabby?  You’re usually back by now..”

Gender and Faith

In fun news this blog has a Pinterest! I love Pinterest, I’ve had a personal one since mid 2011.  This blog now has a Pinterest as well, in large part so I can pin all sorts of religious things without every person I have on Facebook having to look at it.  Seeing how I didn’t sign up on Pinterest with Facebook for this blog… this blog now also has a Twitter.  I’m not a Twitter person, but I can try.  You should follow me, or whatever happens on these things.  This blog went social network this week….all for my extreme devotion to Pinterest.

Pinterest

Twitter

Back to Topic:

Gender and Faith.  I’ve been floating this post around in my head for some time, and I’m still not super convinced I should touch the topic.  Obviously, my perspective is a bit biased, let’s break down why:

-I am obviously female.

-My undergraduate degree was in Psychology and Women’s Studies.

-My attitude can swing between Marxist Feminist and EcoFeminist often.

-You’d think this really shouldn’t be an issue, but it strangely is an issue in faiths: My sexuality is a bit fluid.  I’m married to a male, but I’ve enjoyed the company of both genders.  I’m not bisexual, I’m just an equal opportunist.  I think sexuality and faith can be a post on it’s own.

-I’ve been a part of the Pagan faith for a long time, which can often weigh heavy on the feminine side of things.

-My other biased comes from the issue that I’ve never had a male consistently in my life, the longest running streak is nine years (my current step father), and eight years (my husband).  This issue also involves spiritual figures, like this Jesus fellow who has only been in my life about three and a half months.

The point is, this post is clearly biased, so just roll with it.

I know a lot of women come to the Pagan faith because of the recognition, and sometimes emphasis, on a divine feminine.  I know many former Christians who felt there was something very important missing in their faith, and when they stumbled on Paganism they felt that void filled.  I can see their point of view, and I think that it’s lovely that they could fill that void.  Paganism does have a clear emphasis on not only a divine feminine, but also Priestess hood;  Being a High Priestess of the Goddess is a big deal.  A lot of Pagans discuss coming from a male dominated religion, this can be a very welcome shock.

Once again, I’m working backwards on this topic.  I’m from a heavy feminine faith, and it just so happens I have a life void of male influence (religious and not).  Am I trying to fill the male void?   At the moment, I say no.  I’ve recognized a God and Goddess for years, and it’s been an  essentially equal partnership.  They’ve been the “parents” I try to live up to.  It’s been so odd for me when I try to meet with the religious heads of the Christian faith around here, they’ve all been male.  It’s not entirely conscious, but I don’t trust men.  It doesn’t really show itself in an obvious way during these meetings, but I know if a female would say the same thing to me, I would have a better chance of really listening.  This isn’t the priests and pastors I’ve met with fault; it’s my own.  When I meet with local Pagans I generally meet with the High Priestess, and sometimes the High Priest.  It’s not that the ladies run the show, but I’ve found the leadership is either equal or the lady has the final say.  So, I’m just playing around in the Christian faith where this isn’t happening.  I know there’s female pastors out there, but I haven’t met them…. And even the fact that there are female pastors is in debate.

I will say that the priests and pastors I’ve met with have made a decent effort to try to express their somewhat divine feminine to me.  Each time my head turns nerdy and says “It’s a Trap!” If your particularly nerdy, that should be funny to you.  Many people have confirmed my Mary Magdalene being an apostle rant, but the point remains where no one talks about her unless provoked.  One priest asked me to read some Bible passage I no longer recall, because wisdom is referred to in a feminine context.   I think that’s called Sophia in Christianity, but that might be a mish mash of my confused thoughts.  Father-Son-and Holy Spirit.  Mary mother of God- Mary the apostle – and Sophia (wisdom).  I know these priests and such are trying to bridge the gap for me, to reach out to me with things I might understand… but it’s not the same.  Maybe it is the same, just with different emphasis, I really don’t know at this point.  I do know that this will be something I have to work through in either faith, my issues with a desire to have an equal representation (Christianity), or my issues with trusting men (Paganism).

I know many Christians tell me that they don’t view God as solely male, but when I start referring to God in a gender neutral way… I can feel them screaming “It’s FATHER!” in their minds.  That’s a problem for me … Father.  I don’t have one, I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.  Any association I have of Father is either not positive, or an ideal that I’ve never seen.  I think the title of Father God provides some strong comfort to people…. It can make me angry.  I generally catch myself when I start this pattern of thinking, it’s not something I want to encourage my mind to play with, but as Christians start talking about their beloved Father, I can feel myself screaming “How dare you talk to me about a Father!”  Again, I discourage this thought pattern, and it’s not Christian’s fault.. It’s mine.  My Christian friend has said something along the lines of I should embrace this Father-Son concept precisely because it can live up to what I need in a Father that I don’t have.  She means well, but that idea… you will watch me rebel so quick it’s terrible.  I get caught in the mental trap of “I don’t need a father, I’ve never needed a father, I’ve made it this far.. Who the hell does your God think he is, calling himself my Father.  I don’t have a Father”  Again I don’t encourage this thought pattern, but I can’t deny that it rears it’s ugly head.  I should say that I love my biological father despite his actions; that I would still do anything for him, but he has chosen to reject me.  The convoluted father stuff…. The divine femine is easier.

THAT is exactly why I need to learn about Christianity, because it makes me uncomfortable.  It doesn’t allow me to run from my trust issues, my daddy issues, my anger and hate.  It makes me stare in the face of my personal demons and stand unflinching as best I can.  I growl in the face of my personal demons, as much as they do to me… in a sort of “You wanna fight, let’s go” philosophy.  I very often can be quite foolish.

Your Jesus won’t let me run away; he won’t let go of me… and it’s making me thrash around like a wild animal.

This post went more personal than I expected.  I wanted to discuss the strange political, social gender ideologies… perhaps a part two eventually.

Some tunes for this post, tunes about my father:

Welcome to the Family – Avenged Sevenfold

Call me when Your Sober – Evanescence

Scream – Kill Hannah

Someone like you -Adele

Ouch

Ouch……

Exodus 22:18

New International Version (©1984) “Do not allow a sorceress to live.New Living Translation (©2007) “You must not allow a sorceress to live. English Standard Version (©2001) “You shall not permit a sorceress to live. New American Standard Bible (©1995) “You shall not allow a sorceress to live. King James Bible (Cambridge Ed.) Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. GOD’S WORD® Translation (©1995) “Never let a witch live. King James 2000 Bible (©2003) You shall not allow a witch to live. American King James Version You shall not suffer a witch to live. American Standard Version Thou shalt not suffer a sorceress to live. Douay-Rheims Bible Wizards thou shalt not suffer to live. Darby Bible Translation thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. English Revised Version Thou shalt not suffer a sorceress to live. Webster’s Bible Translation Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. World English Bible “You shall not allow a sorceress to live. Young’s Literal Translation ‘A witch thou dost not keep alive.

We’ll that’s not very encouraging, is it?

I exploded….

I just got all silly excited.  Those that know me well know I adore Oxford; I just can’t help myself.  Those that don’t, check out my newly added About the Blogger section for my ditty about Oxford….

I joined Goodreads for this project, which is a fantastic widget on the sidebar now, if you’re curious as to what I’m reading at any given time.  I also added all the books I’ve read up to this point for this project.

ANYWAY

This came up: Surprised by Oxford by Carolyn Weber A “girl-meets-God” style memoir of an agnostic who, through her surprising opportunity to study at Oxford, comes to a dynamic personal faith in God.

I almost exploded, I’m so excited about this book! and…AND….AAAAAND The cover picture is of my Oriel College! That happened to me! That happened to me! That little bolded quip happened to me!

I’m so unbelievably excited to read this book.  Oh My God….

So excited… as in I looked it up at BN.com… it’s in stock in my town… it is now on hold for me.  You will be mine tonight, sweet sweet book!