Smile-breaks
God Unfiltered
Driving around town, Paul spies beautiful green lawns. "Look at that green lawn—I love it! They should put a prayer garden there." Even the narrow green landscapes surrounding shopping malls and apartment complexes are potential prayer gardens—green spaces with fountains, walkways, benches, statues, and a crucifix or cross.
He asks why I didn't put a prayer garden in our front yard and I say people don't pray on front lawns. To make a point, I ask where he prays. "In my bed. But you should put a prayer garden here." When I make another excuse, he turns to me. "Don't you want people to know you love god?" Ouch.
When was the last time you said, "I love god?" Out loud? Paul does it all the time. Is it Paul? Is it the Asperger's? It's Paul; it's unfiltered—as with everything else he talks about.
Paul's prayers have brought him through tough times but most of his prayers are for others. Recently I was explaining that everyone has something difficult in their lives to put up with and used his cousin with diabetes as an example. He, who always "wants the deets," (i.e., details) wanted to know more about diabetes. After telling him many of the complications that can arise, he asked, "Can you die from it?" My qualified answer brought a quiet but prompt, "Then I should start praying for Kathy, too."
Paul places no time limits on god's answers to his prayers. He asked god daily to get him out of rehab after his neck surgery. Twenty-three days later, he was discharged. "God answered my prayers!" No mention of how long it took, just gratitude to god.
When his uncle was dying, Paul prayed for him to make it through. After a visit to the hospital, he realized his uncle was in a lot of pain and it wasn't likely to end. He changed his prayers—"Please bring Uncle Frank home so he won't have to be in pain anymore." A few days later, Uncle Frank passed away. "God answered my prayers." He was happy that Uncle Frank was in heaven with no more pain, but this time he was a little miffed. "Why did god take so long to answer my prayers?"
Paul checks in with friends and family up in heaven. "I talked to Betty last night. She's glad she isn't on oxygen anymore." "Dad and Uncle Frank and Tom are having coffee together and talking about hunting. Dad says to tell you he loves you." "Frank and Helen are dancing up there. Remember how they always danced when they were alive?" He never knew Ofelia's mother but he's been talking to her and reporting back to Ofelia on how her mother's doing.
On our way to Starbucks, Paul says, "I hope Mark's working today. We always talk about god. I'm going to tell him about the new documentary that's coming out, ‘Finding Jesus.'" As we walk through the door, Mark passes us with full trash bags to be emptied. "Hey Paul, was'sup?" "I still love god!" Paul answers and asks Mark if he said his prayers. "Yep—did you?" "Oh yeah."
Paul likes to get it straight about god. "Mom, who is god the father? Jesus is god the son, but who is god the father?" He's looking for a name for god the father. And he doesn't always agree with god. "Why did he make Jesus suffer?" One day, after dealing with some anger of his own, he said, "So, Mom, Jesus gets angry but god the father doesn't get angry?" He's referring to the merchants selling in the temple when Jesus knocked over the tables.
"God is an old man with grey hair and blue eyes, right?" He giggles and insists he's right about that. Until. . . "I'm just teasing," he says.