October 6, 2012 at 9:34 pm (Uncategorized)
I pray that growing up will not smother the fire of her soul.
I pray that no one and nothing– whether church, school, or even parents– will be able to discipline away her spirit.
I pray that she never become submissive or docile.
I pray that she never look to anyone else for self-worth.
I pray that she know I love her, even though I have never understood her, her wild heart, her sass, her endless self-confidence, her willful need to break away from anything like unto obedience.
I pray that no matter how many times I tell her to, she will never blindly obey me. That she will never blindly obey anyone. That she will always think for herself.
I pray she will not change who she is to be “good.” I was a good girl once, and the price of goodness was loss of self.
I pray she not repeat the mistakes I’ve made.
I pray she never be tamed.
February 22, 2010 at 6:51 pm (Uncategorized)
someone commented. four years later. it’s hard to express how stunning this is. I thought the blog had maybe been deleted since I hadn’t gone back to it. And I hadn’t gone back for a silly reason, really–the print was too small on the blog and I couldn’t read it and I was ashamed anyway. but that seems fixed now, I dunno why.
do I still pray?
yes. I’m praying now. I pray every time I write. something about writing has always made my prayers more real.
my prayers have been different though. more fraught with cognitive dissonance between the god I grew up with and the person I think god really is. People, maybe. Mother/Father. both. I believe there’s a divine female as well as male–that my own capacity for divinity is not diminished because my body is capable of having babies. beautiful babies. it’s society that’s ugly when you have them. filling you with guilt, inadequacy, a dearth of choices, rage, exhaustion, shame. shutting you down whenever you say anything bad about them just because saying something negative must mean that you’re a bad mother.
the funny thing is, someone commented. someone heard. but it was four. years. after I needed to hear it.
it’s strange, god–mother/father–how time and prayers don’t always coincide. you’ve been answering a lot of my prayers lately. been sending answers and explanations and forgiveness and love.
but where were you four years ago?
that sounds like I’m angry, but I’m not anymore. I feel calm again. OK again.
when Jesus was dying on the cross, he prayed. my god, my god, why have you forsaken me? and you didn’t answer him. not a whisper. not encouragement. no angel to comfort.
and he died. he died in the darkness.
and what does that mean?
August 20, 2006 at 4:19 am (Uncategorized)
Because I can’t keep a damn thought straight in my head anymore and I have doubts about my mental stability.
Because it hurts my knees to pray the old fashioned way.
Because if there’s a remote possibility that someone else could read this, it lessens the anxiety that no one can hear me at all.
Because honestly I haven’t been able to tell whether or not you’ve heard ANY of my prayers recently. So I thought I’d try a new tact.