God

When I was growing up, I had to, largely under duress of the fact that I was born Catholic, preform all the perfectly centuries old pre-preformed rituals that demand our bodies, minds and souls belong to Christ regardless of what our relationship with God might be.

It never mattered that I was angry at God because Father Alex raped me in the safe that kept all the church’s valuables. It didn’t matter that the Catholic Church’s response was to shuffle him off to another church, fire my mother who worked diligently  as her secretary and remove all the girls from the Church replacing the Alter servers with only Boys.

It never mattered that the Priest who came after molested the boys, nope, God’s home was sacred and what happened in God’s home was God’s business to deal with, and however his servant’s chose to deal with it, well that was just the accepted way of doing things.

It never mattered how “I” felt about God, all that mattered was that “He” existed, and if I didn’t do what he said I would legit be afraid I was going to go to hell. It sounds funny now, but as a child passing gas was to my mind a sin worthy of going to hell and as it turns out, in my child like mind I was correct.

No matter where I went, or who I met, I seemed to attract pedophiles, and this was as far as the Priest who raped me was concerned, a punishment for being born Black….because I had a choice. You see, I could have chosen to be born white, but because the Black chose to remain strong, the white men around me convinced themselves that if they couldn’t beat the black out of me…they’d try raping it out of me.

Unfortunately for literally every white man on the planet, that just made me ten thousand times stronger than they will ever be. In every possible way, physically, emotionally and metaphysically I have been raped, beaten, tortured, abused and I still love God…I just don’t fucking like the guy. And some people are going to have to learn to fucking accept that. This decision did not come easily, and it most certainly is a decision that I am making “not” to Like God.

The God that I have been introduced to throughout my life is the very essence of what I am supposed to believe that Satan is.

In my years of nightmare, Satan became a close personal friend – even Satan would agree that the things that child sex slaves go through is wrong, so to all you fucking clowns sacrificing Lambs in the fucking desert, or in parking lots, Satan’s waiting for you but she’s not impressed. I know this for a fact, we talked.

During the days of Confirmation, when everyone was picking Saint’s to protect them, I picked the Jesse Tree….now I need to take a break to remind myself why the fuck I chose a tree, instead of a fucking Saint.

Oh yeah, because Saint’s don’t fuck. Be right back. I chose the tree, largely because I didn’t give a fucking fig about Christ, or his stupid Saints, who had up until that age done nothing to protect me from being raped, beaten or bullied in every corner of my fucking life.

I chose the Jesse tree because my middle name is Jessica – Which is why I use “Devon J ” when in my writing.  I chose the tree, because tree’s represent stability, and life, and because largely of my Highlander roots, the tree of Yggdrasil – a neighbor to my childhood mind’s ancient ancestors -. It just made sense at the time, because that was in the days of knowing without knowing anything else about myself that I was always going to be an artist, no matter how many people told me I wasn’t allowed to be.

Throughout my life, I’ve been told repeatedly that I “Cannot” do something, because I’m not allowed, because I’m not good enough. Because I am too brown, too light, too dark, never good enough for anyone, and it’s been amusing to watch over the last year and a half specifically, how many people thought that bullshit worked.

It didn’t even slow me down, I am exactly the person I wanted to be in this moment, I am exactly me, regardless of how many people think that they can be me, how many times they blame me for the consequences of doing exactly what I tell them not to do.

Wow. So this brings us back to the time when I was eleven, that I wanted to know what it was like to walk in Jesus’ footsteps. That was a stupid thing to wonder about, because when I look back at my life, I realize how many people have tried to use his life to define mine. How fucking dare you.

My life is my life, and my experiences are mine – yes I can compare anything I’ve been through, in my entire life, to the same kind of situations he might have dealt with. Yes, he had lessons that I can learn from, but he was him and I am me, and the two are not the same, we will never meet on the same level because our experiences are vastly different.

I remember once, sitting in a car with a First Nation’s person who I’d been trying very hard for many years to get into recovery. This was a person who had clearly suffered the consequences of years of abuse that had come down from ancestors who suffered through “The Schools”, and if you don’t know what that means you’re ignorant as fuck and you should go to a fucking library.

I was so excited, and we were talking about every day things, the things that people talk about on their way to recovery, when our driver so kindly jumps in with “Just get through it by picking up a bible”, I’ve never screamed “SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU BIBLE THUMPING FUCK” so loudly in my head before.

This was a person whose relationship with God was so tarnished by abuse, by pain, by the systematic belief that man can do whatever the fuck they want as long as they say that it’s in the name of God, of Jesus, that they were NOT going to respond well to this. That person to this day is still suffering from drug addiction.

You cannot force people to find God, live with God or believe in God until they have come to the understanding that God is willing to come to you when you’re ready, and they would never, ever force their feelings or love upon you against your will. Cause you know, God’s smart, and they know everything, they and I say they because I refuse to force a gender label on a fucking spiritual entity, will turn out exactly as it should.

This is not a new revelation for me, it’s literally written on every page of the fucking bible, “When you’re ready,” should be on the fucking cover. THAT should be the name of the fucking bible, because at the end of the day, it’s not a fucking instruction manual, it’s a Biography, of pain, sorrow and suffering, it’s a reminder that there is hope, not a “do this or you’re going to hell” bullshit theology.

That crap was added by man, who wanted to control other men and women, and children – that “do this or you’re going to hell” crap is for the fucking birds. What if, and here’s an interesting thought, what if you just did whatever the fuck you wanted, tried not to hurt people in the process, made amends when you could and leave everyone alone about whether or not they believed in God?

Most of the men who raped me had severe disillusion brought on by drugs and you know Keith Rainier, and Doctor Golden’s creepy version of Scientology, oh yeah check out those fucking Golden Dawn freaks, yeah they need some serious Jesus Time.

Maybe you could just leave people living with Addictions, and survivors of rape, or you know just leave EVERYONE the fuck alone about God and let them come to you when they are ready instead of preaching about it every day in the streets. I’m not saying I don’t want you to believe in God’s, or shower them with your love, I just want you to accept that some of us have complicated feelings about the issue and would like not to be reminded that we’re being punished because we don’t worship the same way you do.

To the asshole in Surrey who sits near Surrey Central and told me flat out that God doesn’t love Pedophiles, we agree there. To the same asshole who started ranting about child sex slaves, to a former child sex slave, fuck you for doing that, for making me so angry that I felt the need to scream out to you that I AM a former child sex slave in a public place. You have no right to use your God against me, and the moment you do that I check out.

I don’t have to explain my feelings about God to anyone, but to prevent further confusion, and to remind myself not to get angry every time some idiot says shit like “May God be with you,” I decided to post this.

For the Record God is always with me, she never leaves me alone, and I am grateful for that, because without them I wouldn’t be who I am. Don’t pray for me, don’t ask to pray with me, dance with me instead.

Let me live my life, and let me be happy as I am without your distribution or “re-calibration” of who you think I should be. Accept me as you accept God, whole heartedly and without shame. I’m not better than you, I just see things differently and I am okay with that.

I see, hear and speak with God on a regular basis, and what we talk about it’s between us, I’m okay with that, if you’re not that is your problem. Not that you needed to know that, but I feel the need to say it just once and for all.

Enjoy your God, just leave me and mine the fuck alone.

Te Amo, The Original Loud Mouth Brown Girl

Devon J Hall

 

 

 

 

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