Fugitives from Fundamentalism

The Musings of Adult Missionary Kids (MKs) & Former Born-Again Believers


Here are some of my favorite passages from messages I have received from Christians:

The God of Toilet Paper

For me God is real and practical. There are so many times I have heard God speaking (not outloud-in my thoughts) that I know that he is real. My relationship with God is not my parent’s faith it is mine. For example…years ago…my oldest was a toddler I believe. I had just finished grocery shopping and I had brought in all the groceries from the bed of the truck except the toilet paper. I stood in my kitchen and I heard God speaking clearly to go and get the toilet paper out. I responded by thinking I will get it later. Again the same message “go get the toilet paper out of the bed of the truck”. Again I responded “later”. This happened a couple of times…finally God stopped telling me and I went about my business. Less than an hour later it started pouring. I was standing in the same spot in my kitchen-realizing that I would be throwing away all that toilet paper away. My first response to God was-why didn’t you say it was going to rain. I remember clearly that God said I told you to get the toilet paper out of the bed out of the truck. Funny stupid story. But I will never forget. Never. God cares about me even down to the practical stuff of life. God isn’t this distant celestial being that only cares about the big picture. He caress about me and the small meaningless details of my life.

Pascal’s Wager“: The Argument That Refuses to Die

Even though I’m right, you and I will just agree to disagree. 🙂 Thing is–if you’re right, I’m pretty well off because when I die I’ll still continue to exist. But what if I’m right?


4 Responses to “Mail”

  1. William said

    The first story reminds me of when I was a student at Texas A&M. Rather than have cheerleaders, we have “yell leaders” who are almost always male students dressed in janitors clothes (it’s too weird and complicated to go into the history of it). Anyway, the yell leaders are elected by the student body. One year, there was a guy running because “God told him to.” He said that as a freshman eating in the cafeteria, he heard God tell him to run for yell leader. He ignored him. Later on, he heard God asking, “Have you run for yell leader yet?” At that point, he knew he was on a mission. He decided to run for yell leader, and this story was his platform. You’d think that, considering how many students at A&M are fundamentalists, he’d be a shoo-in. But even his religiosity was too much for them. He came nowhere close to winning. God wanted him to run and lose to test his faith, I suppose. A real modern-day Abraham.

    As for Pascal’s wager, I have always thought that it’s the most ridiculous “argument” for God’s existence. I find it is typically used by dime-store Christian “philosophers” who found it while browsing through a book on the philosophy of religion at Barnes and Noble or while surfing the blogosphere. I could formulate a similar wager for radical Islam (who doesn’t want 72 virgins all to himself?) or for atheistic hedonism. But nothing is proved by any of this.

    • I’m not sure how I missed your comment several months ago, but I’m sorry I did: that is a great story. It reminds me of something a fundamentalist girlfriend of mine told me to prevent us breaking up, “God told me we are supposed to get married!” My response was, “He didn’t tell me that!” When everyday folks claim to be speaking for God, not too many people listen. A lot more listen when pastors and other religious leaders make the same claim, but I’m not sure why.

  2. “Hello?” is anyone out there??? I don’t cry anymore even though my heart is a burned out hole of ash. Sometimes a few tears will ease out of the corners of my eyes and my body will convulse a few times, but there is little emotion or release.

    I am lonely. After growing up overseas in a tight, village community, my life still feels off balance. The discovery of more and more traumatic events (abuse) within my family have further isolated me. My parents are missionaries! They are the perpetrators! Sigh… There is no way to express my outrage and pain: there is no way to communicate to you in words how lifeless, used and dirty I feel (a virgin who just discovered she is a whore).

    There is no comfort you can give me, even if this were a forum to receive comfort… So I return to the God I hate and love, praying that faith will one day transform my bitterness to sweetness. Strangely, the further down my suicidal path I go, the more open I am and the more I long for the realization of faith.

    ~Postscripts of a Fool~

    • JN said

      I think people here can relate to some of those feelings. There is such a culture of “holiness” on the field, but sometimes there is some real unholy stuff that goes on. A lot of it seems to get swept under the rug. I don’t really know what to say, but I hope you get stuff figured out.

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