Friday, February 21, 2025

Prayer, God , Politics, and Other Musings

 I was praying this morning, yes, praying. It was right after reading divisive posts on Threads. I put down my phone, put my head in my hands rubbed my eyes, as if trying to wipe those words out of my brain. And I started to pray, "Father God, Mother God..." For the first time, I addressed God as mother, and also for the first time I felt a type of sweet nuturing, compassion and empathy. I paused just to relish the moment, then began, "Help our country! Do something!" More words came to mind. But this time from a dear friend of mine.  She said she believed in God but didn't believe in prayer.

In my stream of thought, I remembered years ago, after spending a few decades in churches that did not encourage us to entertain any thoughts that would cause us to doubt, I came to a conclusion.  If God is love, if God is everything they say, then God can handle my doubting self. 

Yet here I am, again, praying, wondering, doubting. "God, help our country! Do something!" Then again, aren't all the people who voted for this power hungry autocrat, aren't they praying too? I know some  "Christians" are ecstatic he is president, they think he will protect their middle class money.  They love him for banning abortion (and cutting public education funds, and funds to help single mothers)  they are praying God will protect this billionare. This presidential felon! This president who bragged about grabbing women by the pussy! These Christians are praying God will protect him! Did they pray for Obama? He certainly could have used it. Especially when right wing supporters called his wife a gorilla.  And Biden? Did they pray for him? If they did, I missed it!!!

So it leads me to this question. Whose prayer does God answer? 

In one corner of the world, a sick, exhausted person is praying desperately for cancer, that's eating them alive, to leave their body. Then after begging God for a miracle, it happens. The doctors confirm the cancer is gone. A joyful celebration follows with emotional exclamations of gratitude !

Alternatively,  somewhere else in the world, a horrific car accident happens, a child is in critical condition and rushed to the hospital. At her bedside, parents, church members and friends are pleading with God to spare this child's life. Yet she dies anyway. Grief beyond measure follows. The loss is beyond words.

Why one and not the other? An eternal question with, at best, feeble answers from people who haven't experienced a deep loss. Those who are veterans of profound loss, only shake their heads.




And so it goes. Praying for peace, love and liberty for all can mean different things to different people. 

Our country is seriously falling apart. Christian Nationalism is everywhere, and the ,"we vs they" mentality is kicking in on a grand scale. The "theys" are people like me who are considered backslidden or, simply put, blind. On a darker level people like me, or the "theys" are considered influenced by a demon or the devil himself. Still, I prayed. A prayer different from most of my prayers. A prayer to miraculously get white billionares out of the white house, a petition that all people and religions will celebrate  freedom. 

So, to pray or not to pray? I'm not sure anymore, but I still pray. Even more so these days, I pray. I can't stop. I choose not to stop. Last year, I tried to give up God altogether, it might have lasted a week.  One thing I've decided to believe is that God is good! God is love, God is spirit. At times, I feel God's presence, it's very peaceful. Sometimes, when I'm desperately praying for pain to go away, whether physical, mental or emotional, I don't feel him/her at all, but somehow, very slowly, I survive and climb down from that lonely edge.

 Years ago, I had the most brilliant student with parents who probably should not have procreated.   I loved that kid! He was brilliant, way smarter than me when it came to academics. A genious in a fifteen year old body. However,  his problems were insurmountable! I tried to help, but all I could do was listen and try to answer his questions.  One thing I told him, "Brett, if you don't remember most of what I say, please remember this, always move towards love! ALWAYS!" He remembered,  but the emotional darkness he lived in pulled him down too far. When I got the message from his father that he had died, I wasn't surprised, but I was devastated. 

His father believed his girlfriend shot him.  I was told they had a horrible argument and the girl was leaving him. Brett grew up with lots of guns in his house, so he had easy access. I believe he shot himself in a highly emotional moment of despair.  I prayed for Brett everyday. I prayed he would miraculously find a way out of the jaws of a toxic environment. Instead, this brilliant boy was shot and killed. His voice still haunts me. I still can see his face. Sometimes, like now, I feel him. Why didn't God answer my prayer???

So, there ya have it. That's all I've got. I'll still pray for this country.  I'll pray for what I believe is good and just. I'll pray our country moves towards love  not what some believe are morals. Just like with Brett though,  this country, or what I believe was our country, could die in an instant. And also just like Brett, I won't be surprised, IBut I'll be devastated!


Overview

Lyrics

Listen

When the war is over

And we go back to every day, every day

Will it be the same again

When you been turned inside out and outside in?

Singing from the windows

Shadows on the wall, the way they dance

It's not much of nothing

But look at this fire burning bright

Look at how the children play

Well, none of us know what's to come tomorrow

But I'm not going out today

So dance with me like the time we've got is borrowed

Singing from the windows

Sirens in the dark, where are you going?

Pretend that it's nothing

But look at this fire burning wild

This is how we keep holding on

All the days, all day long

But sometimes things just fall apart

No matter how we try, they won't stop

Singing from the windows

Something outside but I don't know

When the war is over

Picking up the pieces of every day

Memories and picture frames

Trying to put the inside out and the outside in

Singing from the windows

Walking down the hall, nowhere to go

Be good to see you

We'll get going again

When the war is over

No comments:

Post a Comment