Proving the Missionaries Wrong
Proving the missionaries wrong was all any of it was to me. I was happy & content when I met them! I thought religion was only something people turned to when something was going wrong in their life— a supposed God as some sort of mental comfort
But that wasn’t me. I was not seeking. I was happy and content and I didn’t need help from anyone or anything, definitely not religion.
I was set out to ruin the missionaries’ life, acting how they taught me only so I could go back to them after ‘nothing happened’ & prove to them that their way of existence was alllllll in their head!
I was doing the WORST GOD HAS EVER SAW kind of efforts. But effort nonetheless, I guess. No idea what I was doing. I was definitely just guessing. 100% just experimenting. 100% of it was all incredibly awkward and uncomfortable to me. Nothing felt right at first, nothing big and nothing immediate, nothing obvious happened from my awful efforts. But I kept doing them anyways, ya know, to prove them wrong.
The funny thing about trying though, is with any bit of effort– you receive. Even the ‘worst God has ever seen’ kind of efforts–you receive.
So JOKES ON ME, ‘cuz here I am still. 2009 vs.2021 Still wishing I had better efforts to offer the Lord, and yet, still I receive.