I Know What I Believe, Who I Am … I Just Don’t Know Where I Belong
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter
I know what I believe … who I am … I just don’t know where I belong … by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.
I know I believe in God, Jesus. I grew up going to church … the old ladies always swung by Hell to pick up the little girl who looked worth saving … took her to church with them on Sunday mornings … Sunday nights, Wednesday night prayer meetings … and revivals.
I had a foundation underneath me … that has always been there through time. I didn’t always attend church faithfully. Why? Do you want to know truthfully … why?
You won’t like why? if you are one of the people I speak of. You may say … okay, Gloria … you go for what you believe … not for the people who also, go. I say … I won’t say.
We always try to be where our ‘birds of a feather’ … flock. The birds of a feather I would like to flock with … are few, far between. I’m different … I know I am … and it is just the way it is. Oh yes, I can pretend right with the others … when I have occasion to have to be in a … different flock. After all … we have to blend in for whatever reason. I can do it well … my problem is … I become frustrated.
Become frustrated with f___ing, fakey-ass people. You know how we really know people … then, to see them put themselves out in public … pretending to be the pillars of the community … the all-good, wonderful role models.
I want to just get up, walk out. I’m not that kind of bird. I don’t want to hang with that sort of bird. I only rub shoulders when I have to … and get the heck away as soon as I can. I can only hold my mouth so far … if someone begins cramming their beliefs, mess down my throat.
I’m just not going to stand there … be docile, take it. A weaker person will … and it hurts me seeing someone … just trying to belong … when no matter what they do … they won’t ever be good enough, or anybody enough to be a part of the ‘high and mighty’. The ‘high and mighty’ need their gofers to do their fetching, their dirty deeds. They won’t ever fully accept you, the weak one. To belong … people will do anything.
This doesn’t apply to everyone … but, there’s no way … you … can convince me you never see this in the order of things every day in your life. If you don’t … you could be an ostrich in the bird family … you might want to keep that head in the sand. I suffocate if I have to eat that much … sand.
I think of church … and here, I’m not going to argue with anyone about this … I respect your opinion … but, this is my Gloria Opinion, you can also … respect mine. I feel the church is/are … people, not the building.
People are the ones who can make one feel good being around them … but, when their minds are only on themselves … how much better than they are dressed than anyone else, how much they have more than their neighbor … on their own birds of a feather … looking damned ridiculuous a lot of time, if you ask me … I don’t choose to let those people be my role model, nor be a bird of a feather in their flock.
I’m too real to play games. I’ve lived life too-real to play games. I live in reality … how life really is. I’m not going to walk around in my high heels teetering-tottering all over the place … my skirt too short so, I can attract someone else’s husband while he sits over there … sneaking a peek or two, drool running out of his mouth.
I’m not going silly laugh the loudest to gain lots of attention from all the birds around me. I’m not going to sling my hair all around, hold my neck, head so straight … put that snooty look on my face like I smell s___t … to let others think I’m so much better than them.
I think more of myself … respect myself to act decent when around others. I’m not better than anyone … nor is anyone better than me. In reality … if you live in the real world, you know I’m right. Don’t you also, get sick of the bulls__t?
I loved going to church as a child … even when the preacher‘s son tried to corral me up in a dark corner scaring me, groping me, kissing me … as a little girl. Even when the kids wanted to run around with straight pins … stick each other with them until they bled. Even when the preacher ran after me in a darkened room when visiting a church … to go to the bathroom in their house.
Even when an old lady took me to a church like I’d never been in my life … people began falling in the floor, foaming at the mouth, began screaming strange sounds … as a little girl I was terrified.
I still loved church but, I never chose to attend that type church again. They weren’t my birds of a feather … I never desired to be a part of their flock. I didn’t knock them as I became older, knew about them … we all have our beliefs. I respected theirs, and I went my way.
Through time, I’ve tried to make myself go to church. I couldn’t go the second time … I didn’t choose to play games with people to be a part of their flock. I can pretend with the best of them … I don’t choose to pretend … I am only … me. You either like me … not like me. The way I feel about that is … the choice is yours. I can’t cry if you don’t.
You probably haven’t lived real life like I have to know there’s more in life than being something you aren’t. I’ve played that game through time … life whipped my ass. It shaped, molded me into a very serious person … who knows life is about real things … knowing not to waste time on pretentious people, material things. I know it’s just a matter of time … each of them will learn just as I did.
I love God … I believe with my Heart. I believe in the power of prayer … I believe in the goodness of people. I want to give the benefit of the doubt to others until I know better. I want to give before taking … I love people, animals … I’m most forgiving of others where others can’t forgive.
So … my question is: what am I if I can’t sit in a church … listen to words that a person is paid to preach … that puts people to sleep? Words that don’t touch my very Heart … words that make people restless for church to hurry, be over?
My opinion is that as soon as that service is over … it’s best to go my way. I don’t belong here if I can’t feel love, peace, happiness … connection to the people, preacher.
What about listening to a preacher who goes off on some path of preaching about God … has nothing to do with a funeral he is there for? What about me becoming frustrated and I’m thinking that’s pure … bulls__t … you are forgetting the family sitting in front of you … preaching to hear your own voice.
What about them as that preacher yells about God Almighty, tells you that you’re going to be smited down for your sins you evil-doers! … they are sitting there in their own torment, needing soft words … comfort from someone … the birds of their own flock?
Do you … think … they need to hear a man stand in front of them red-faced, screaming out to God … making their grief, pain worse … making them begin to shake from the pure anger in that man’s voice? They are going through the worse thing in their life … they’ve lost a loved one … does this help things?
My Gloria Opinion … a big, fat NO. If it had been when my child died … I would have gotten up … walked out. The grief was too much when my child died … I couldn’t have taken the loud voice preaching … screaming about all ‘these other things’ … other than my child had just died. It would have been like sitting there while a big hammer beat me lower, lower into my pew.
I don’t knock any of this … a lot of you are going to say … well, Gloria … it is the way it is … this is the way we worship … doesn’t matter what that preacher says, does … he knows best … after all, he is a man of God. We have to listen … we have to believe … he is our preacher and we know he can’t say, do a thing … wrong. I say … I respect that … I go my way as quickly as possible. I am not that kind of bird.
So, my readers … you know me through the years … time … tell me what am I when I say these things. Am I a heathen? I know I’m not that … I believe in God with my very being. I believe in being as good as I can be. I would give my last cent, possession to help another. I love everyone, even care for people I don’t like. I don’t sit to gossip, tear down others with awful words … I stay to myself because most people aren’t like me. I don’t try to take from others … take advantage. I’m as honest as you get … I love animals, homeless people. I could keep on.
I do say ugly words sometimes … they are in me … I learned them when I lived in Hell as a child. Even trying to be as good of person as possible … sometimes, I say a dirty word. I told you I’m not perfect … I don’t pretend. I’m also, high-tempered … and I always try to control it … I got it naturally.
So, what am I? Has life stripped me of my rose-colored glasses … made me see what I shouldn’t see … so, I can’t … belong to the flocks of birds I speak of?
Should I pretend … be other than what I am … to make others happy by doing what they believe … than being myself? Should I slowly die inside being other than what I am … to belong to some flock of … ass-hole birds I’m not anything like? Just to belong? Just to make … you … like me?
I mean … seriously … what kind of bird … am I? Or … am I just a damn heathen … don’t know it? I mean … seriously … should I be an ostrich … eat … sand?
Note by this Author:
I have tried through time to belong to a church … to groups of people. I just couldn’t … I couldn’t bear the thoughts of pretending, smiling … being other than myself.
I didn’t want to play games of who is prettiest … how much my clothes cost … gossip about Mary, Sue and Jane … and Jane’s husband … how good-looking he is and what I’d like to do.
I admit … I’ve tried through time to be like other birds to belong in their flocks … I couldn’t do it for long. Those good flocks of birds do bad things at times. They tear down other people to look good. I can’t do that … I don’t sit, gossip, tell everything on people I know. I never have … I never will. I don’t even try to destroy my enemies, people I truly despise. I truly could … but, that’s not me. I couldn’t live with intentionally hurting others … unless pushed to the point I have to.
Yesterday … it came to me after I witnessed some things … what in the hell am I? I know what I believe in, who I am … I just don’t know where I belong.
Photo/story owned, written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter.