What makes a Christian

*****I know there are extremeists in every religion but this post is going to focus on the opposite of extreme.******

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Matthias'_Church,_Vepery
I used to go here when I was a baby. My very first church

Every religion has a thing. Buddhists are known to be peaceful. Hindus- mythical stories like the greeks. Muslims- never wavering beliefs and the strength to keep at it. Christians on the other hand, in the century I have been living in at least, have always been the quiet ones. They all seem to be in their own little happy world. Like a clique that you can get into but you always seem to be the one who is missing the point of every conversation. You don’t hear on the news that a Christian was killed so the pastors of the world had something to say about it. You know? Everyone cares if its a catholic or hindu priest or a buddhist monk or a muslim imam but no one cares if its a christian pastor. You have the odd idiot quoting the Bible to get into politics. But I am not talking about that, I am talking about what happens when you hear a missionary was killed or a nun was raped (just look into Indian News….it’s all there)

I have seen and know too much to not leave Christianity altogether. But then I have also seen too much to stay with it completely.

I go to church every week now with the family. We even went over for dinner to the pastors house once. 

I want to know what these people have that make them so happy and smiley and full of positivity. What do they do when they know that there is no one in this world that loves them? Perhaps I am missing something and I have in the last 30 years of being a “christian” and I just need to find out what it is.

They always seem to be smiling and sure that God will give them what they need and content with what they have now. How can you be like that? What do they know that we are missing? Some kind of secret karma place in their minds that we haven’t seem to have tapped into? A happy gas perhaps? Is it just plain ignorance maybe? What is it?

I NEED TO KNOW!!!!

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This Faith of mine

My husband was up for a promotion. Infact they put him up for the job on a secondment and then told him he’ll get the job permanently in feb next year. Anyway as luck would have it, we got the bad news yesterday that it was not going to happen. We were so upset because we were riding our entire lives on that promotion and it was all gone. That day we told his mum and she says “that’s okay, whatever God has planned it will happen. Maybe he has something better for you”

I know she meant well but That PI$$ED ME OFF so bad! SOOO BAD. I’m SICK of waiting on this so-called almighty to come and save me. Because I have been waiting for this said God to give me a break for years now… and I don’t see anything happening. Whatever better plan he has for me has not happened yet because not only did I lose my parents this year, I also realised that they have been screwing me over for years. I have lost my entire family, my entire history is gone. I have had to sell everything that belonged to me just to survive! I have no money, infact my husband and I have gone hungry for weeks because we only had enough money to feed the kids and get them diapers after paying the rent, the bills and the mortgage. There was even a couple of weeks we couldnt afford to get the diapers so our babysitter had to buy it for us!

Anything good that HAS happened was because of my own willpower to make it happen. Im so done with this fake faith that everybody is so invested on! SO OVER IT!

Ugh.. ok that’s my rant.

 

Christianity and why I don’t believe it exists

I come from a culture where we are taught that religion comes first. No matter what….God is first. The problem is, that same culture confuses cultural rules with religious rules. Like for example; we are not allowed to drink at weddings. When I was younger, I was led to believe that this was because it would not sit right with God…. but the truth is, God doesn’t  give a shit… people just don’t want to spend money so others can get drunk.

I started questioning these rules during my late teens. I researched and got a pretty good idea of what was right according to the Bible and what was just a cultural thing. Up until this year, I was a pretty religious… I even named my first Born “Faith”.

I finally questioned the fact that a God exists during my 20th “conversation” with my mum about my uncle almost raping me – twice and her not caring… I thought to myself… “why would I be put in a family where they just don’t give a shit? I know that God only gives you as much hardship as you can take but surely after almost 3 decades I would have had some kind of resolution/ closure with this? And if marriages are made in heaven…. what the fuck did I do to deserve an asshole? Like force married to an asshole!”

I cannot disregard that a God exists because there are some things in this world that I cannot explain… but I cannot say he exists either because well…. why are all these children being hurt these days? Why can’t God stop it from happening? I know humans do alot to themselves and they have the choice to go ahead with a bad decision or not but how would a kid being abused have a choice? The Bible says that I should respect my parents and honour them… do I still honour my parents even though they blatantly don’t care about me?

I am feeling ridiculous writing all of this. I know there are going to be comments with a yay or a nay in it but I just don’t get it. So I am just going to say…. if there is a God he is not all powerful. He is there to give us hope during hard times so we have the strength to move on and not kill ourselves. Scriptures are there to help us live lives as good people and that’s it. There is nothing supernatural about God. There is no heaven and our lives on Earth is hell.

This is what I believe. I wish someone out there would prove me otherwise.

Daily Update

Today has been a particularly hard… tiring day.

Good old Mr. Virus decided to attack me last night, so I have this incredibly feels-like-glass kinda sore throat and cough. To top that off my entire body is shivering and hurts like I have been hit by a truck. Not sure if this is from the accident or the flu… or both. To top THAT off, when I woke up this morning my dad decided to pick a fight with me.

I told him that the tow truck driver was coming to drop off the car until the dispute gets resolved and his reaction was to call me names, he called my husband names, My kids were crying,  I called him names, My mum was trying to diffuse the situation and I regret not punching him.

I am so drained. Physically and Emotionally completely and utterly drained. I cannot give anymore, I don’t have the energy to take either. I have literally given them my entire life and they still keep asking for more WHILE wondering why on earth I am actually mad! I just want things to work out for once without me having to go through so much sorrow. I know nothing comes easy in life but honestly asking for some help when I have just nearly died a few days ago is not that bad to ask is it? Is God not watching this? Is he even there?

I’ll be honest and I promise I am not over-reacting. I wish I had died in that accident. I would like to think that, that might have let people know how much I actually do in this house. But I know it wouldn’t have. Me dying would have amounted to nothing, because they would have just blamed my husband and kicked him out of the house.

Because that’s just my Indian Family.

The whole truth and nothing but the Truth

I initially started this blog to tell the world my story. I thought I’d be creative and write like all those fancy writers and perhaps maybe turn this into a book. Then the whole world will know how unfair my entire existence has been.

But that’s not who I am. I am not creative. My story doesn’t have enough to pull in a crowd and heck I’d be lucky to get even one reader in this blog.

I’ve decided to be me. I am going to be direct. That is me. No filter.

The basics

I had a childhood like everyone else. I grew up in an upper middle class home. My mum was a teacher, my dad an accountant, my sister (who is 7.5 years older than I am) was like a second mum to me. Due to the age gap and the sheltered life I lived in India I was naive enough to believe everything my parents taught me. “Family comes first” “Girls wear dupatta everywhere they go”. Before you get ahead of yourself… I should tell you that this is not a story of feminism.

Everything I thought I knew about my family was put to the test the night my uncle used my hands to give himself a hand job. I was probably 7 or 8 years old. I did tell my mum and my grandma the next day but there’s only so much an 8-year-old can explain. I can’t quite remember what I said but I do remember my mum and my grandma saying “your uncle was showing you how much he loved you”. I knew that explanation wasn’t quite right. But I also knew, there would be quite an extreme drama if I kept pestering and I just let it go. He was leaving to go back to Australia that afternoon anyway.

We migrated to Australia when I was 13. The only logically place to stay was at my Uncles house until we got our life patched together in a new country. I did this thing subconsciously where I packed enough in-skirts to wear when I was taking showers but I didn’t let myself think about why I was doing this.

As luck would have it. I got my first period when I moved into his house. I turned clumsy, always aware of my surroundings and who was or wasn’t watching. Always timed it so I wasn’t home alone. Never took showers without my clothes. I was bullied at school and I had no friends. This was the first 8 months of my life in Australia.

My parents are proud people. My parents were now laborers in a factory. From a teacher/ accountant to carrying loads of God-knows-what from one end of a factory to another is enough to turn anyone to depression. And it did. I saw the depression take over them so I never said a thing. I didn’t tell them about my anxiety, I didn’t tell them about the bullying, I didn’t tell them how I used to eat lunch on my own in the nearby bushes at school.

We eventually moved out, got our own house, my parents eventually got into good jobs and our life was normal. My anxiety was somewhat gone and sneaking alcohol in my Coke bottles gave me enough courage to make friends at school and I could finally go through my normal teenage-y, “i-hate-the-world” phase.

The Sibling

Continue reading The whole truth and nothing but the Truth