Pax Vobiscum

I was really, really, really angry at God - like most people are. You have to fall out with a lover before you know you can live with them. I still wish God would just admit that He’s a perfect women, but we all know that’s not going to happen. Of course, we are never angry with what we think is making us angry, it helps not to be in denial. My father and mother were angry all of the time, they lived in a slow simmer of loathing. I was angry, and all my friends were angry, nor could we have explained it, but the things we did and did not do all arose as an anger hidden just under the skin. The anger came out as pimples, boils, and blackheads, skin is a mirror for anger. Maybe we are a mirror for God. I hope She’s not angry at me anymore.