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A guy picked me up, hitch hiking, the other day. He told me Jesus told him to pick me up. It had nothing whatsoever to do, I suppose, with the fact that I, a fat, disabled, older woman with a load of groceries was standing in the hot, desert sun with my thumb sticking out. He takes no personal responsibility for his own decisions; either God or satan tell him what to do. He can blame every aspect of his life on somebody else. I didn't reply to his Jesus comment. I did tell him a little about my life. I'm 5 miles from the nearest, small town. There's no public transpo and I have no car. Every room in my house has at least one broken window, which I've patched with bits of glass and clear silicone. I have no running water, no sewage, no heat in winter. I poo in a bucket and bury it in the yard. I have no friends or family here to help me. First few days of summer, it was over 110f in my house, as I had no air conditioning. He heard all of it and commented on none of it. If Jesus were actually directing his actions and decisions, would he not have offered to gather a few of his fellow congregants to help me make this place habitable? Not doing anything is a decision, which he can't recognize, of course. He didn't want to help me; he wanted to recruit me. He's not alone. Most people who pick me up start immediately cramming their religion down my throat. They never ask if I have a faith or show any interest in what it might be or who I am. They assume that, because I'm poor, I need to be saved. I guess God is only for the middle class. If you're poor, you're going to Hell.
A guy picked me up, hitch hiking, the other day. He told me Jesus told him to pick me up. It had nothing whatsoever to do, I suppose, with the fact that I, a fat, disabled, older woman with a load of groceries was standing in the hot, desert sun with my thumb sticking out. He takes no personal responsibility for his own decisions; either God or satan tell him what to do. He can blame every aspect of his life on somebody else. I didn't reply to his Jesus comment. I did tell him a little about my life. I'm 5 miles from the nearest, small town. There's no public transpo and I have no car. Every room in my house has at least one broken window, which I've patched with bits of glass and clear silicone. I have no running water, no sewage, no heat in winter. I poo in a bucket and bury it in the yard. I have no friends or family here to help me. First few days of summer, it was over 110f in my house, as I had no air conditioning. He heard all of it and commented on none of it. If Jesus were actually directing his actions and decisions, would he not have offered to gather a few of his fellow congregants to help me make this place habitable? Not doing anything is a decision, which he can't recognize, of course. He didn't want to help me; he wanted to recruit me. He's not alone. Most people who pick me up start immediately cramming their religion down my throat. They never ask if I have a faith or show any interest in what it might be or who I am. They assume that, because I'm poor, I need to be saved. I guess God is only for the middle class. If you're poor, you're going to Hell.
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