Stolen Moments

This week has been a series of stolen moments.

For example, this post is being written at the expense of paying attention in my completely worthless English Comp class, and this wakefulness is occuring at the expense of my physical and spiritual health. In a word, coffee.

I worked an overnight last night, I will tomorrow, and Wednesday and Friday and Saturday and Sunday. My replacement, whom I was to train last night, was a no show. So, somewhere in the midst of all these overnights, I have to complete tow problem sets, two drafts of a paper, and ace two exams, both of which promise to be challenging.

Hence the coffee. But there really are trade offs. The physical comes in the form of heart palpitations and shaky arms and hands. I knew this would happen before I took the first sip, but it is unnerving anyway. Curiously, it is not the caffiene, but the coffee itself that brings on the tremors. I can drink a two liter of Mt Dew and come away clean, but 6 ounces of coffee is enough to leave me jumping out of my skin.

And of course, there is the spiritual damage, though at this point, it’s like poking roadkill with a stick. My Mormonism seems to be cultural at best and terminal at worst. I hold on to the faith–the belief, really, by threads, because I don’t know how to be a Trinity-denying, prophet affirming Christian any other way.

I suppose I will always be some sort of half breed, begging the Lord to help by unbelief with one side of my mouth and cursing His (and my) existence with the other.

I want so badly to be Christian, but I fear it is all for intellectual pleasure, more than spiritual. The books I’ve been reading have been no help at all.

Vows is the latest, and it is wonderful. It challenges my world view and leaves me questioning the things I’ve just taken for granted.

More than anything, I realise how liberal I’ve become. There was a time when I thought that I was conservative, especially in the realm of religion, but in my old age I’ve become downright ecumenical–permissive as all get out.

Somehow, though, I think this is progress.

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One response to “Stolen Moments

  1. “Vows: The Story of a Priest, a Nun, and Their Son”

    I think I’ve read that one. Is the first line “A priest, a nun, and their son walk into a bar”?

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