Wednesday, August 26
Tuesday, August 25
Sunday, August 23
Angry Conversations With God began when Susan hit hit forty and found herself loveless, jobless, and living over a garage. When a churchy friend told Susan that she needed to look at her relationship with God was it like a marriage, Susan decided to take God to marriage counseling.
Angry Conversations chronicles Susan's spiritual history, from childhood faith to a midlife crisis, and all the bizarre church experiences in between.
I was raised Lutheran: Bible-believing, Jesus-loving Lutheran. But as an adult I tried everything: Pentecostals, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Rock ’n’ Roll Slackers 4 Jesus, Actors for Yahweh. Then I said, “Screw it,” and became a drunk and a slut. Well, a Lutheran slut—I only slept with two guys. Then I got sober and into AA, where I could pick whatever God I wanted. But I didn't pick God; God picked me. I've known him as long as I could remember. I’ve been washed in the blood, slain in the Spirit; I walked through the Bible, I’ve been baptized twice; I’ve done outward cleansing and inner healing. I even went through a therapy program for ex-gays, and I was never gay. Through it all, even if pastors hurt me or friends let me down or entire denominations went Shiite on my ass, I still believed God was good. Until that moment in Central Park...
Taking God to counseling, Susan quickly casts herself as the neglected wife and God as the jerky spouse who has no interest in changing. Susan readily skewers American Churchianity and the weird ideas put forth by her crazy in-laws. But before long, Susan must face the fact that the god in her head is not the real one; the real God won't be manipulated, demonized or controlled; and he loves his wacko family regardless, just like he loves her. Is she willing to love God, regardless of what she can get out of him? For better or worse? Not so much.
Angry Conversations is funny, vulnerable, and even at its most scandalous, a refreshing affirmation of faith.
Friday, August 14
Tuesday, August 4
I don’t know why I didn’t start re-reading my books earlier. I’m falling in love with the characters all over again. It’s perfect and simple. Beautiful. This is such a simple pleasure and I don’t know why I didn’t do it earlier. I’ll be sad if they ever stop printing books on paper. There’s something about the feel of the paper and the look of the ink. It’s soothing. I feel like I’m home when I have a book in my hand and good music playing. sigh.