Oh. My. God.
Recently, I had to pay back God for a big favor. What to do?
Four years ago, when my husband was in a month-long coma, I brought a dark chocolate candy bar to the hospital chapel every day. I placed it on the altar between the cross and the Star of David, and said, "Please."
My husband recovered.
Recently, my husband was again diagnosed with cancer. We were handling that diagnosis efficiently when his doctors suspected cancer in another part of his body. I felt overwhelmed and out of my depth. How could I handle all of this - the doctors and surgeons and paperwork and travel and, most of all, keeping my husband "up" for the fight?
The more I prayed for a solution, the more I realized that I had to find a way to show my respect for God. I had to show Him that I believed that He could help me.
I thought about a conversation I had overheard years ago. A woman, when referring to God, said, very casually, "Oh, you know - God, Jesus, Budda, whatever you call him."
I remembered thinking, at the time, how protective all of us are about our names. There are Michaels who hate being called "Mike." There are Dianes and Diannes and Dyans.
Were we to say, "Mike, Mark, Mack - whatever" we would be considered self-centered creeps who can't be bothered to learn people's names.
Then I saw all of those home makeover TV shows, where, when the finished product is revealed, people walk through their homes and say, "Oh. My. God."
Later, I saw it shortened up for texting. OMG.
I finally realized what had bothered me about that woman's long-ago comment. Why did she not have the commitment to refer to her higher power by whatever name He had been assigned in her particular faith, and respect the name? God. Jesus. Budda. Whatever.
Well, flash forward to current day, where I swear like a son of a bitch. God this, God that, Jesus F-ing this and that.
I had to offer something to God to show my respect. I made a contribution to the food shelf, but so what. What else could I do?
I decided to speak His name only respectfully from now on.
I began with substitute swear words. "Blank" is good. "Blankety-blank" has an angry rhythm that is extremely satisfying: "Get that blankety-blank thing out of here!"
"Bloody" is rather exotic, but a few days' viewing of BBC America and you'll get the hang of it.
Finding new names for ridiculous people has been fun. There are worse things to be besides an asshole. There are carbunkles, dandruff and boils.
And throwing a "Holy" in front of your favorite actors' names covers the exclamation department. "Holy William Holden!"
And God? Well, I address Him as God.
But because I always give my friends nicknames, I call Him "Sky Chief," too.
Oh, and those tumors the doctors found after they found the first cancer?
Benign.