Monday, September 7, 2009

For Those Who Think They Will Never Change

Who I Used To Be:
Twenty years ago I was 33 years old. I smoked 2-1/2 packs of cigarettes a day (and was very obnoxious about it, not caring if my smoking annoyed others). My husband and I could finish a 2-liter bottle of whiskey in a weekend. I didn't like most kids, I had hair down to my waist and I was about 30 pounds lighter. I thought I was a failed Christian because I couldn't believe all that nonsense, but I was still afraid to admit, even to myself, that I was not a Christian. I thought that this was my life and all of my future.

Who I Am Now:
Today I am 53 years old, I haven't smoked a cigarette in 18 years (and tobacco smoke really annoys me!). My husband and I can keep the same bottle of whiskey for 2 months. My life pretty much revolves around kids -- hundreds of them! (I work in an elementary school kitchen) -- and I feel like I am a mother to all of them. My hair is as short as a boy's, and I have to buy my big clothes online. I am enthusiastically exploring atheism, after having studied Wicca for 5 or 6 years; spiritually speaking, I am somewhere between a Pagan and an Atheist, feeling that there are either many gods, with many different personalities (and probably little interest in us mere earthlings), or no gods at all. I can easily, guiltlessly, and even proudly, say that I am not a Christian.

Who I Might Become:
In twenty more years I will be 73 years old, most likely retired and living on Social Security (assuming there is still a Social Security program in twenty years). I expect I will be more cranky then, because my body will hurt more, and I won't have enough money to go shopping. I hope I won't be a widow. I will probably drink even less than I do now, because I won't be able to afford much booze, and because drunk old ladies are both sleazy and sad. My hair will be gray (and messy, if I don't have to go anywhere, and I won't have it cut regularly), and I really hope I will be able to wear clothes sizes that I can buy at Wal-Mart (or whatever the equivalent will be). I presume I will be just as opinionated as I am today. I imagine I might be volunteering at my school, or maybe the local county library, if I am healthy enough, and if I am still allowed by the State of Nevada to drive a car. (Ooooh, maybe I'll have one of those Segway things -- one of the new type, with three wheels!)

Since I can't seem to post a reply comment on my own post, I will place my reply to Makarios' comment here:

In reality, God does not meet MY standards. According to your own mythology, God has no parents, and that is very obvious. He could have used some mature, moral guidance.

Stumble Upon Toolbar

1 comment:

  1. It almost sounds like you quite on Jesus because you couldn't meet His standards. In reality Jesus came to rescue you and forgive you because He already knows we can't meet His standards, yet He loves you anyway.