Are you referring to Joyce Meyer? If yes, then youâre obviously not being forthcoming. If I was sincerely a misotheist, and REALLY believed the things that you claim to believe, I would be out living a pleasure-obsessed life completely focused on myself. I wouldnât be as well-versed in Catholic doctrine as you clearly are, and I CERTAINLY wouldnât be familiar enough with Joyce Meyer to make that amusing of a reference. I hope youâre having a good time with these posts. Youâve entertained me to no end. Well done.
I credit her and Charles Stanley for lifting me at least partially from a hellish pit. Corapi also helpedâŚbefore he dyed his hair and everything unraveled. And being a misotheist is hard work, I sometimes relapse. But joking aside i had stuff happen that crushed me, mental health is not all that great in the family gene pool either. I wish I could have raised from the ashes of my childhood and turn over a new leaf. I didnât have the werewithal to wage the mental war, ward off depression and hopelessness and build my personality and my adult life. My dad is/was a religious fanatic, and not so great on a human level. I felt oppressed by my circumstances, I was scared stiff of my father (who was very volatile), to stay sane I had to constantly wish this or that away. I sorely miss the other version of myself if had been stronger psychologically, had had a better environment, had enjoyed good mental health, a little sharper. I feel condemned to a life of mediocrity, frustration, stagnation etc.
If youâre following, you recall the hockey incident. It had a profound effect on me, how I saw myself, the world etc. Didnât cry, didnât try to hit anyone, I remember thinking:this is going to be a long, painful and lonely life. If Catholics got it right then Godâs permissive will is a female dog. Tried my darnest to escape the pains of my childhood. But youâre wrong, a reasonable hedonist lifestyle is what Iâd want if I could get the kind of money needed to have it. I wonât ever be able to connect, let alone trust someone who let things go as low as they did when he had the power to step in at any moment. The plan all along was to have such a good life, and that includes affluence, not multi-million, Donald Trump affluence, but affluence nonetheless, to have it so good that the thought of the miseries of the past wouldnât be able to make me depressed or sad, or even stop me from smiling. Misery, anxiety, depression, regrets are easy to ward off with affluence. God had my trust, at least partially, as much as I could muster given the bad stuff, then I realized he wasnât gonna come through to help me in abig decisive way. I naively thought he was waiting for the right opportunity to knock me off my feet. I didnât think a God who could create the world and women (donât mean that in a dirty way) could not be prosaic and just offer to embrace my crosses as divine comfort. I mentioned Godâs PR team, but I donât understand all the mystifications, the hiding games etc. Genesis suggests Adam enjoyed almost daily conversations with God, these days God seems to be the deistsâ god.
Meanwhile, iâve got to find peace and rest for my worried mind. In closing, if I do make it to heaven I will have paid an unreasonably heavy price compared to others who will have breezed through life with good looks, friends, great personality, good mental health, fulfilling career, money to take trips all over the world, nice house, 2.1 children, a partner they love and admire and who reciprocates that etc. The level of pain I experienced, at some point it needed to stop. I experienced enough to be able to have a smooth ride for the rest of my life. Thatâs where God and I seem to disagree. I had a cr**py first half, I want the 2nd half to be so good to compensate for everything I lacked growing up. Iâm ready to give up my ââseatââ for someone else. Resignation will never be an option. That much I know.
iâve been around Catholics enough to know all the little tricks in the book to make little of someoneâs agony to make God appear glorious and awesome. Nothing has ever been thrown at me that I havenât heard time and time again. Everything I said is factually true to a T, so I wonder why it isnât ââseriousââ. This might just be rehearsal for the final rejection, though. See, God is good with everyone all the time. Joyce would say heâs no respecter of persons. Sheâd also say ââHallelujah!ââ.
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