Today I have no real duties in the group home, except for writing the shopping list for tomorrow’s groceries run to the local supermarket. I enjoy days like this a lot, just waking up knowing I have nothing to do elates me. I can normally also enjoy days of work, but my psychosis makes this difficult in this time. But sometimes I do get into the mood for working too, like it was with the snow shoveling.
I drink a lot of coffee lately. I don’t think this is so good to me so I want to switch to tea. I don’t quite enjoy drinking water. Maybe it’s because I smoke a lot.
Theologically I want to go on a break. I need more life than bible theology which can be rather dry or, conversely, scary at times. I don’t get much faith and trust in God just from reading the bible. I need to go to church for that. A good service with a good sermon can do wonders for me, and the bible is often more like a fighter who comes quarreling with you, rather than a healer or a genuine priest.
My mother has the habit of simply not spending time with things that depress or scare her. I always dig into these things with a no-matter-what attitude of being able to conquer everything. Maybe I carry aggressions into my bible reading, or maybe I am too proud sometimes. But I don’t know if being unable to bear with the biblical aggressions is a fault of my own aggressions or of my pride. The bible is simply written such that it destroys the faith it builds in other parts of itself. They call it God’s universal word but I find it too disjointed and too ravageous and too complicated to fit that role. It’s not like a big unified love letter either. Who can read the mosaic books looking for the God of love and finding Him there? That’s the stuff I mean.
The bible has in itself some really wonderful words. It speaks of lands of milk and honey, and of a God who gives honest and pure happiness. And then it ruins all that and speaks of lands of ashes and hunger, and of a God who takes the life of children. And many christians are dishonest about these things. The only solution can be, the story was different, God wanted something else than what the bible authors wrote. The Israelites, once more, didn’t get things right. But if they didn’t, how could we? We know this one new matter, that God is love, but then we rather live in the old things.