Finding Salvation in Death Cab for Cutie
I needed her to tell me that it was okay to doubt, to yearn, for the lyrics in our headphones to mean something sacred—with or without God.
I needed her to tell me that it was okay to doubt, to yearn, for the lyrics in our headphones to mean something sacred—with or without God.
When I looked at her, I simultaneously saw divinity, and myself.
The grounding I felt in organized religion was substantial: the loss, acutely painful. I found temporary relief in all the ways nature found me wherever I lived.
I’ve published articles on examining the archive’s margins and gaps to recover women’s stories, but that won’t help me understand that girl who left her family when she could no longer live in shame.
I had always found a gathering of women sharing their stories and wisdom an effective way to touch the divine.
I spent so much time watching and trying to understand secular women that I never bothered to try to understand the others, the ones who never left.
Spending my childhood preparing for the Apocalypse exacted a price on my ability to trust, particularly in the concept of family.
Most of my formative adolescent experiences took place in churches, but it was never about god. What drove me was a feverish desire to belong.
To your church and to the world, there is nothing more dangerous than a woman wanting.
Both church and theatre demand from their followers the suspension of disbelief, and the ability to inhabit an imaginary set of circumstances in lieu of the known.
“The Lord either saw me unfit to visit—or it was that other thing, that lightless tunnel, that labyrinth turned endless maze.”
“I saw that God I’d been so determined to believe in not as an absolute, but as a construct that couldn’t take a joke.”
“When will American Christians put two and two together and start acting like their Savior?”
They were fallen angels, Satan’s henchmen, and they were everywhere.
“I wanted to be the one Father Tom winked at, the one whose hair he gently touched with his large, sturdy hands.”
“If you let God in and then don’t let him out again, what happens to your body?”
“Finding solace through trusting God became frustrating.”
God has given you a special task, they said. Save your mother’s soul.
Getting trashed was my way of announcing who I was: not Mormon.
“I am not in awe of God, but I am in awe of faith.”