So here I sit on a Sunday morning while the family is off to church.  Funny, I grew up with a father who NEVER went to church and remember how much it hurt me; yet here I am doing the exact same thing.  He never said why he never went other than his church is not in a building.  It's when he's out fishing or out in the woods hunting when he feels closer to God.

I don't buy that excuse now.  See, I'm still upset with God.  I do still have faith in Him, believe in Him and appreciate what He has done for me.   I'm just waiting for the Almighty to apologize.   I guess He doesn't do that.

The last time I sat in church was about two years ago.  I was VERY happy, excited for I had so much going for me and plans for my future.  I also was unexpectedly pregnant.  A shock at first but soon a pure joy as I felt every hormone rush, morning sickness and love in my heart for a new little buddy to come along.   Overjoyed maybe.

Yet just before my third month - something didn't feel right.  I prayed.  I prayed hard.  I sat in church and cried through the whole service.  I miscarried that very afternoon.

I haven't been back since.

Something does not sit well with me when a person could be elated to levels so high then slammed down to the pits of despair and left there.  No reason given.  No apology.

I could go with the family and be pretentious.  Sit there week after week begrudgingly, with a huge fake smile upon my face.  But for some reason I don't believe that God would like that very much.  These are behaviors and actions that He despises.  That I despise.

He doesn't apologize.  Or does He?   Will I ever get a rainbow?

Probably not and you know what?  It hurts.  I won't allow myself to ever be elated like that again.  I feel like I'm not worthy of it and that God felt that way too.   Which if is the case, then I feel really shitty.  It sucks.

So there it is.

I haven't blogged since forever and decided to at least start free-writing thoughts as they come to me. It's an an effort to regain a part of my mind that seems to have gotten itself lost over the past few years.  Maybe this will be my one and only post for another few years; maybe this is a new beginning.

Who the fuck knows?

So anyhow, there was a lunar eclipse last night; the type that make our pesky little orbiter turn red.  It's often referred to as a Blood Moon and supposedly has all sorts of tales, omens and mythical meanings to it.  I've been reading about this impending event on Facebook during this last week.  Some friends posting just the scientific facts, some posting doom and gloom and other's just bragging about their ability to stay awake or awaken at 3 in the morning in hopes to snap the perfect picture of the beastly thing.   Not me, I had a very difficult day and was so soundly asleep that I wasn't going to wake up for nothing, nobody and nohow.

I noticed a gorgeous full moon while driving home from my 13 hour workday from hell and was reminded that in a few hours the thing would turn red.  My mind was in a state of having no more fucks left to give, so I just glanced over the impeding omens, myths and bologna that are tagged to this sort of event.  Instead my heavily issued mind focused on the beauty of the whole event.  Just how incredible the physics of this world, our being, our intelligence and our moments.

I recall thinking that if all of this awesome wasn't by the hand of God, then we must be nothing more than a big, freaky mistake.  The thought of that seemed awful and it made me feel angry inside.  It's one thing to be an intelligent being, another to share our intelligence by filling everyone's traffic commute with data.  From speed limit signs, traffic lights, directional signs and passing zones.  Someone engineered, studied and devised a foul-proof directional plan so we can efficiently travel to and from work with the highest degree of safety.

Well, unless you live in Savannah, GA where there seems to be blind traffic engineers.

So like why would anyone bother to do that?  Is it because they care?  Is it because they love?  Is it because the lack of roadway insignia caused the death of a loved one and made them angry and determined?  What if nobody gave a fuck?

What if there wasn't a God?  That would seem so cruel for nature to give us all of these emotional feelings and intellect.  As much as the anarchist in me despises rules, regulations and authority - are they in place because someone cared?

So my focus returned to gorgeous moon and it's impending eclipse that will occur in just a few short hours. If I'm recalling correctly (considering my mind is shot the hell out) these blood moons are some sort of omen of impending apocalyptic times.  No surprise there as I believe we are living those times, and war is already in effect and seemingly escalating into other areas.

A notion that I'm not in fear of because it precedes the "Great and Awesome day of our Lord."  That despite our intelligence, brains, emotions and efforts to give a fuck; war, tragedy and hard times still befall us.  They say evil exists in the absence of God.  Makes some sense, almost like driving down an unmarked highway without any regulations or caution signs.

Then the thought returned, "What if there wasn't a God?"   You know, I'd be angry about that.  However, angry at who?  My shot out mind then thought I would be angry with God.  For what?  Mad at God for not creating a God?   That sounds absurd but a part of me immediately questions why our existence in all of it's beauty, our feelings, our smarts and our compassion would even be allowed in simple nature to occur if there wasn't a God and a life hereafter.

So yes, I would be mad at God if there wasn't a God.  I guess Descartes would say, "I think therefore there is an "I Am."   

She realized at that moment that everyone feared the big noise coming from outside and determined that maybe; perhaps she should be a scaredy cat too. She ran into my arms in search of safety, comfort and explanation.

"Remember the Pirate's Beards you've noticed on our trees outside?" I asked. "Well once in awhile those silly pirates like to carry on and play games with their pirate ships in the sky. They have water cannons that go BOOM! They jump off planks that go BANG! And sometimes they go CRASH! into a tree and get their beards all tangled up in the branches."

"Well this my dear," I embellished, "is what is happening right now outside. Those Arrrrr-ornery pirates are out there making a big mess but we're very safe inside."

She never feared thunderstorms since, yet now that she is 8 she knows that these ornery pirates do not exist. Only I don't know whether it is to not disappoint me or because she likes to play - whenever a storm rumbles on the horizon she wants me to go to weather.com to bring up the map to see what direction the Pirates are sailing.

Much like she still wants me to go to NORAD's website to track Santa each year.

Just last week on our way to school we drove by a home decorated to the hilt for Easter. In the front yard stood a giant pink inflatable Easter Bunny on top of a hay pile nest of giant colored eggs.

She looked at me and asked, "Mom? Why do people believe in fake stuff like a big scary Easter Bunny who craps jelly beans and lays eggs?"

I was speechless, half wondering if the time has come where my little girl has figured out the whole Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy and Santa conspiracy. Then she said, "Why don't they believe in the real stuff like Jesus?"

Nevertheless, here it is the night before Easter morning and I have yet to make a run to pick up Easter basket goodies. Only I don't know whether I'm doing this to not disappoint her or because I like to play. What I do know is whenever a storm rumbles on the horizon of her little life she'll want to go to Holy Bible to see what direction she should be sailing.