Jesus, Mary and Joseph

I was raised Catholic. Voodoo Catholic to be exact. Voodoo Catholic is a combination of all of the regular rules of Catholicism plus things like "don't put your hat on the bed or someone will DIE!" and "don't put your shoes on the table or someone will DIE!" The implication being that you held the power of life and death in your own hands, especially if you were carrying a hat or a pair of shoes. So, you were very powerful but never in a good way. There was no "put your shoes away and always have fun at play" or "put your hat on the rack and you'll receive candy by the sack!" It was mostly dark, dark stuff.

And so, as soon as I left home, I abandoned the Catholic thing, especially the inconvenient going to Mass part. I dabbled in new ageism, but it was a little too funky for me and plus, they always wanted you to write stuff down, "take out a clean sheet of paper" I'm sorry, that's more than I'm comfortable with. Then it was onto Unitarianism, but something bugged me about that (probably the incessant church attendance, I mean every week--come on!) I learned a little about Buddhism, but by then religion wasn't sticking. I still believed in God, but who or what God is a little amorphous for me.

I like having God so that I have someone to talk to when I'm in a jam who might just throw a little magic my way, and if not, I appreciate the listening. I find it useful to argue with God with I'm angry or confused. I've had no verbal answers or burning bushes, but the listening is enough for me. I believe in karma and in the possibility that the next person you meet who is in need, could be God in disguise. I try to act accordingly, unless the person scares me. I believe the only way to live a good life is to be good to myself and other people and to do what I can to make my little corner of the world a better place in whatever way I'm able to do that at any given time. I believe that life with no kind of God, even a God of one's own devising, is a little lonelier than it could be.

And I haven't quite given up my Catholic roots. Saint Anthony helps me find things every day. (Dear St. Anthony, come around, something's lost that can't be found. Try it. I don't know why, but it works.) I also have little chats in my head with Mary. She was the mother of a challenging only son, too. And then I have Saint Jude for the really hard, scary, impossible stuff. I think I'm in it mostly for the listening and the chance of a little magic thrown in just when i need it.

P.S. I still don't allow hats on the bed or shoes on the table, just in case.