At age sixteen I began what would be a four-year struggle with bulimia. When the symptoms started, I turned in desperation to adults who knew more than I did about how to stop shameful behavior—my Bible study leader and a visiting youth minister. ”If you ask anything in faith, believing,” they said. “It will be done.” I knew they were quoting the Word of God. We prayed together, and I went home confident that God had heard my prayers.
But my horrible compulsions didn’t go away. By the fall of my sophomore year in college, I was desperate and depressed enough that I made a suicide attempt. The problem wasn’t just the bulimia. I was convinced by then that I was a complete spiritual failure. My college counseling department had offered to get me real help (which they later did). But to my mind, at that point, such help couldn’t fix the core problem: I was a failure in the eyes of God. It would be years before I understood that my inability to heal bulimia through the mechanisms offered by biblical Christianity was not a function of my own spiritual deficiency but deficiencies in Evangelical religion itself.
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Has the way we increasingly “debate” politics brought the ship of state our forefathers brought us to this Titanic moment in time?
We might as well burn every Slim Whitman record and elect a REAL alien. The first may not be the worst idea I’ve ever had, the second I’m not sure rhetorically there would be much of a dif. And I must admit over the years I increasingly have felt like the aliens who tried to shut out the sound of Slim’s yodel-y voice.
Politics has become the cotton candy of the rhetorical universe. Poison cotton candy. You might as well have Jimmy Jones sprinkling tainted Flavor Aid over it before handing the content-less, substance empty, confection over to the electorate and our children. Might as well have WWE wrestlers slamming chairs over each other’s heads, or the Stooges bonking each other, running for office.
This is the way “adults” behave?
If so there are children more wise, more mature, more adult-acting in preschools. Maybe we should elect them. Today’s kids know “bad touch” better than our president, maybe a certain Court bound frat boy, maybe even Al Franken. Maybe. Read more