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31 May 2008 @ 11:11 pm
And if Jesus doesn't like it he can sit on a tack (ow!)  
Saw two neat-o church signs today.
"Don't instruct God. Instead, report for duty." Scary for obvious reasons.
"Maybe God is asking YOU for a sign." What  does that even mean? We're not the ones that are supposed to have magical powers, he is. Wtf kind of 'sign' would you give god? I'm tempted to call these folks and just ask.

My mother's long-estranged step-brother is apparently a real local hero type. Was a hoodlum and convict when he was younger, was mentored by police officers and became a boxer through their guidance program, won nationals, decided he wanted to be a cop and his cop friends helped him get a pardon in order to do so (hugely rare thing to happen), studied law while working as a cop and earned doctorate,  became elected prosecuting attorney. He wants to become governor of Indiana.
SO my sister makes this here comment: "Is he a Christian?"
Mom: "I don't know."
Sis, heartfelt: " I don't know how someone could make that kind of big change in their lives and accomplish something like that without god."
I have to put up with these kind of comments all the fucking time when I'm with my family. Their talk of god is constant.
I was really tempted to say something and probably would have but there is no way to get a word in edgewise when my sister gets talking. I just had to let it go with everything else.

More family fun:
My mom has been in Colorado for the past week and brought us back (you got it!) t-shirts. Me and my sister got tank top, spaghetti-strap things (ew)  and she accidentally got me a large in little girl sizes. Now, my brothers got cool, non-suvenier-looking t-shirts that actually fit. Why does my mom insist on buying me clothes at all, ever? She always buys me something girlie and churchy and I always just flat-out tell her wtf? I told her that we now have a new and hardfast rule that she never buys me clothes at all, for any reason. I also told her that she should have gotten me one like the guys got.
My little brother after this comment: "Yeah, cuz you are obviously a guy!"
Me: "HE-llo!"
Of course, this little covert exchange about my sexuality made everyone tense. Damn, I guess I forgot to act straight for a second.
Also, I've been carrying a big messanger bag for many years now (yes, the same one, always, for five years) in vocal refusal to carry a purse. I don't let anyone call it a purse (but everyone does anyway just because I'm a girl). And today my dad pointed at my mom's small, white purse and asked, "Is that Krista's".
Nuff said.
 
 
 
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katzenklavier: heart firefiremasque on June 1st, 2008 11:10 am (UTC)
One of the churches near us has creepy signs like that - one read 'If God is your co-pilot, switch seats'. This reminds me of when we lived in Saudi Arabia, and my dad went for a drive with one of his Arab friends, who, when asked by my dad why he didn't wear a seatbelt, said 'Allah will protect me'. Apparently they pray at the start of a journey. My dad said that if it was all the same to him, he'd wear the seatbelt Allah had so graciously provided.

Also - your sister must bug the hell out of you. God helping your mum's estranged step-brother or not, as the case may be, doesn't matter, nor do his beliefs - what matters is that something drove him to change at all, and that due to his own hard work, whatever motivated him, he's made that change, and should be commended for that. Also - isn't God meant to work in mysterious ways?? I doubt that if you look on this guy's body, you'll find a stamp there saying "One more life transformed by God.Inc".

And GAH at the clothes thing.
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