Nora’s God

My ex mother in law was Catholic, and it always baffled me.  It baffled me that she stuck with it, even after years of being ex-communicated, through no fault of her own.  I didn’t know back then that she created it herself.  Is that what she was choosing to experience, or would she have preferred a life of less guilt?  I never thought she deserved to spend her life feeling guilty for no good reason, she never really did anything wrong, other than bring home bandages and stuff from the hospital where she worked.  She always asked the doctor first if she could, and that made it right apparently, or at least put the onus on the doctor instead of her.  We always had fabulous first aid boxes while she was alive.
 
“That sure is a mean, petty and vindictive god you have there, Nora, excommunicated you because your husband ran off with the woman across the street?  I’d find your own god if I were you.  Mine says to me “For gods sake, enjoy it at least!  Try to be kind and don’t be too much of a bother to anyone, you have a conscience of your own without me telling you what’s right or what’s wrong, now look at that sun shining on that wheat over there that I put there for you to enjoy, doesn’t that cheer you?” and I say “Well yes, it sure does, thank god I’m alive”.  My god doesn’t read the Gib Chronicle, he doesn’t make me recite mumbo jumbo three times before he’ll take notice.”
 
I didn’t date that, but it was around 2000.  Interestingly full of my own religious beliefs isn’t it!  I used to read in the personal column of the local newspaper, letters to god, promises to say 3 Hail Marys for favours granted and such, and think that was just the daftest thing, expecting god to read the Chronicle.  I suppose as a method it’s as good as any other.