What do you tip a wood guy?

So what on earth is a real Christian, anyway?  I’m so glad you asked!  😂  I’m going to tell you what I think it means.  I’m an intuitive person.  I live my life like a real Christian because I find it logical.  I’m not a Christian.  I don’t believe the Holy Bible, or any other book is a Divine inspiration.  However, this doesn’t affect my desire to live in my spirit.  I do so because it’s my will.  It means I make choices based on what I believe to be righteous and good.

I abhor sin rather than hiding it, disguising it, lying about it, pretending I wasn’t aware, etc.  (Sin is doing what you know is wrong.)  If I know it’s wrong, I don’t try to skew reality to make it acceptable.  I check myself and correct myself.  This is what separates children from adults.  I’ve honed the ability to detect right from wrong by paying attention to what the universe teaches me and behaving only in ways my conscience approves.  (Doing what you know is wrong weakens your spirit, and nobody can hide the sins of their flesh from their spirit.  They’re connected.  Hello!)

I began by naming my conscience Jesus Christ and striving for his approval of my heart and actions.  (This is probably where most Christians start, assuming they also attend some sort of Sunday School or the equivalent.)  He’s been my imaginary friend since I was a young child.  As an American, this was done by rote.  It’s by design, but I don’t trust the motives.  (I do find it amusing I was able to make it work for me, despite what I strongly suspect was merely intended to control humans.)

As I grew and was exposed to more information, I gradually recognized reality versus what I was taught, and adjusted accordingly.  I purged my internal database of things I only knew by rote.  It hurt, sometimes.  I find the loss of belief quite painful, but endurable.  I had a similar reaction when I discovered my dad wasn’t Santa Claus (and parents can lie.)  I decided I held similar values as many of those espoused by the New Testament.  I also left room for my own beliefs and values because I’m responsible for me.  I’m responsible for my choices.  I’m an adult.

I don’t know if there is life after the death of our flesh.  I can imagine life continuing in spirit.  Our spirits aren’t subject to the laws of the known universe, and therefore, may be immune to decay.  The only issue in this regard I find concerning is the fact so many are oblivious to living in their spirit.  I don’t know the physics of how the spiritual plane works.  I try not to go too meta (because I doubt I’d come back.)  😂  I believe all that is alive is connected because I sense it.

If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be writing this.  I wouldn’t spend so much time nudging other spirits with love bombs (I’m so addicted to this.)  Instead, I would probably be wasting an extraordinary amount of energy hating 45 and Sessions and Mercer, etc.  As if that would do anything but weaken my spirit and immune system.  🙄  I know this because I found out the hard way, and learned it’s not worth it.  In fact, it’s counterproductive.  Hating something alive is ridiculous, and harmful to the hater.

When I find myself in a murderous rage against someone or something, I usually waste a few hours, energy, and tears writing a really long post about it.  Then I check myself by reading it later while my imaginary friend, Jesus Christ, reads over my shoulder.  It works incredibly well, I must say.  I have a Council of Wonder Women guiding me, too.  Lisa Bloom, Michelle Obama, Hillary Clinton, Malala Yousafzai,  Maya Angelou (her words are forever), Stevie Nicks, Beyoncè, Sheryl Crow, the leader of my resistance group, my resistance sisters, and all the people of the resistance, (all genders included, I just like calling them my Council of Wonder Women.)

It’s a big council, but they mostly remind me to think, be loving, and be myself.  I’m grateful (because I can imagine this blog and my Twitter feed if I didn’t have their wisdom guiding me.)  😲 😂  Part of being human is discovering your spirit.  It’s the part of you that isn’t bogged down with worldly concerns.  It’s our true self.  It’s the part of you I know exists, and already love.  Sometimes, I waste time wondering if people like Paul Ryan even have a spirit because they don’t behave as if they do.  I’m striving to cease this activity.

It makes more sense to assume everyone has one, no matter its state.  Some people are unapproachable in their flesh.  They’ve severed their connection to their spirit to a shocking degree, and require focused effort to connect with in the spiritual plane.  45 is an example.  I love-bomb his spirit because I can, (and my conscience insists.)  I have to go outside and walk on the lawn barefoot to focus my aim at such an elusive target, but I can do it.

People who live in their spirit are readily detectable.  They despise sin and take action to eradicate it from their life.  They’re honest.  They care about being righteous, not about what people think about them.  They live their beliefs from day to day.  It’s a lifestyle commitment to strive for what’s right, not an act to hide what’s not.  They live in their spirit, and it shows through their loving actions.  They’re attractive to other striving spirits in a non-fleshly way.

Many think they can fake it.  Fakes don’t believe in their own spirit and assume it’s all a game where they can cheat.  They embrace sin and strive to hide it in the world, or even alter reality, while their soul is naked, weakened, and exposed.  In fact, it’s a choice.  I’m uninterested in where the path of sin leads.  I choose to live in my spirit, where embracing sin makes me ill.  I pick love, life, and light.  I hope you do, too, but only you can decide.


I have a friend on Twitter who is young.  We met through hash tag games, and follow each other.  At the beginning of our friendship, she got into a debate about religion with a mutual follower.  The mutual follower felt she was being persecuted for being a Christian, and had no tolerance for atheism.  My friend saw that she wasn’t going to be reasonable about it, so she asked if they could agree to disagree.  But our mutual follower felt victimized, and went silent.

The next day, I was chatting with my friend about something unrelated to the previous issue.  The mutual friend saw me being kind and supportive of her, and became angry.  She blocked us both, and told me I had betrayed her by befriending someone who had abused her over her religion.  She didn’t allow me to say anything to that, not even goodbye.  For a moment, I felt upset that she would react in such a childish way.  Then I realized she probably felt triggered by the incident, and that it wasn’t really about anything but my failure to protect her as my friend.  That put her reaction in a different light, and it became easier to understand.

I don’t resent her for what she did.  I don’t think there is anything I could have done in that moment to assure her that I cared about both of them, regardless of whether they got along.  So I care about her without her knowledge now.  I won’t be the person she needed me to be in that moment.  I won’t reject my friend on her behalf.  I won’t reinforce the painful message she’s already deduced from her life so far.  It would be wrong.  I know this with everything I am.

This young friend is a beautiful person.  She doesn’t know this.  She’s intelligent, witty, kind, concerned, and aware.  She reminds me of myself when I was younger in that she wishes her mom would have elected to have an abortion, rather than birthing her, and struggling.  I remember feeling that way for a long time.  It’s something I outgrew as I’ve grown, and I’m confident she will too, in her own time.  What she is saying is that she loves her mom so much, and would do anything to make her life easier, even if it meant giving up her life.  She’s saying that she doesn’t believe she is worth the struggle her mom has endured.  She’s saying that she wishes she never existed sometimes.  Most of the time.

Feeling that way is like that ache in the back of your throat when you’re trying your hardest not to cry.  It’s that resentment you feel when the first tear edges it’s way down your cheek despite your willing it to cease.  It’s that lack of control you feel, when you realize your body reacts in a disobedient manner.  It’s a deep depression.  It’s scary and sad.  I know this because I’ve lived there before.  So of course I can’t turn my back on her.  I can’t let her go on thinking she’s worthless when I know it’s not true.  I can’t ignore the fact that she’s a bright light in this world.

So I try to gently remind her that she has value.  I know she disagrees now, but just reading my words sinks in a little, if only subconsciously.  She goes back and forth with religion, as many do at her age.  The desire to disbelieve in fairytales and declare yourself an adult is normal growing pains.  To throw religion away is a bold declaration that you have your own mind.  It’s not done to offend those who believe.  It’s not done to try and get others to disbelieve as well.  It’s a process of growing out of indoctrination, and questioning everything in order to have a full understanding of where you will eventually take your stance.  It’s finding the confidence in your beliefs and values.

It’s something I think most people do, although probably not as openly.  There are phases where arrogance and superior intellect are lies one tells oneself to compensate for the bitterness thrown at them by Christians who are insecure in their own beliefs.  The finger pointing when one who is identified as a Christian does or says something that is clearly not considered a proper action for the religion is another.  But these are part of the process.  She’ll outgrow all of this in her own time.

I just support her for being herself and finding her way.  I see the goodness in her.  It doesn’t make me feel old.  It makes me feel like some of the hard times I’ve already lived through were worth it, because now I can see past the mask and recognize the pain behind it.