I meditate with a group of people called the Brahma Kumaris.
They are strong in the way they provide space to find God, however, they believe that they are in the last stages of this life, and are in the process of becoming Dieties. Highly elevated beings, worthy of worship.
Everything you do, counts.
You can change your destiny if you make effort.
It’s admirable because it puts responsiblity for your life squarely in your hands.
There is no mercy here. No-one dies for you. Forgiveness is nothing more than being detached.
I cannot find it withnin myself to believe that everything that happens to peopel is ‘their fault’, that I am not accountable to anyone but myself.
In conversation, being boastful gives me alot of problems.
I always boast in some way or another. I want people to recognise how clever I am, or how much I’ve done, or who I know.
I think it comes from not feeling ‘good enough’.
It makes me feel sick immediately.
Most times, it’s because there’s a lie in there somewhere.
When there isn’t, I feel bad because what I’m boasting about doesn’t need to be boasted about. Also, I am aware almost immediately, that I have closed a door on the person I’m boasting to. In being ‘better than them’ they become ‘less than’ – and they hush up, they close down.
I spent another day infront of the computer, playing games.
I don’t feel like making choices, don’t feel like figuring out what I’m going to do about this or that.
I noticed that I didn’t spend time with my boyfriend even though he was on the couch with me the whole day.
At some point I remember thinking that I should turn the machine off and give him some time.
I also remember feeling ‘…I’m not his keeper, he’s old enough to find something to do, his questions are irritating me, I’m not responsible.’
I’m quiet again today, watching the rest of them crowd around Jesus. I want to be there but I can’t move my feet.
What about me? You’re going to die and go to heaven and leave me here.
Why would God love me? Why would God help me? I am only one of many billion humans, one of an infinty of life…why would he be interested in Kenneth Olembo?
Besides, my feet are blistered, we haven’t had anything but bread in days and I really want to look at some porn. It doesn’t matter afterall – I’m human – we do these things.
I sigh and look again through the dust at this man I’m trying to love. The people around him think that he’s going to come down off the cross. They think that he’s going to take Rome down and distribute the wealth.
They don’t know that he’s going to leave us to our faith.
Do I have faith?
Will he deal with my bank account? Watch my health? Forgive my wrong? Feed my family? Protect my property?
Will he be there when I need him? How will I know?
Do I love him, or just what he promises for my life?