Let the Judging Begin

My mother-in-law called yesterday. (Yeah, you know it's not going to be a good post when it begins with anything concerning one's in-laws.) I didn’t pick up. She called me again this morning at the butt-crack of dawn even though she knew Adam’s been working at the hotel until 1a lately. She also called Adam and left a text message with only her phone number on it. Adam called her back. Apparently, they’ve finally realized that we’re working for them so that we can buy our own health insurance and get off medicaid. Apparently, they’ve finally realized that’s why we’ve been asking for more cost estimate jobs and told them that we couldn’t work for them at all if they didn’t give us at least twenty hours per week. Apparently, they finally realized that qualifying for medicaid is based on one’s income level, and that if you make too much money to qualify for the program but you don’t make enough to buy your own insurance or even purchase it from your other employer within the time period it is offered once a year, you are screwed. If you are pregnant, then you are doubly screwed. Apparently, they finally realized this and began calling madly, even though we’ve explained this again and again.

And my mother-in-law even had the balls to say that if only we would begin going to church regularly every sunday then we would be acceptable Christians and she would allow us to come onto her wonderful “Christian” health insurance plan. A splendid plan where rich Christians don’t really take care of poor people who can’t afford insurance; no, the rich Christians just focus on helping themselves.

Part of me is elated when people who count themselves righteous say really shitty things like this, because I can write them off as the self-serving, sanctimonious fraud they really are. Another part of me, a larger part, just feels really sad about the state of spirituality, humility and understanding in this culture. And at my basest level, I am raging inside because I feel truly judged without any facts. Or even any good fiction, for that matter.

And really, when did going to church just every single Sunday ever make anyone into anything at all, except someone who attends a once-weekly function? I wonder if she’ll still think we’re heathens when we start volunteering/attending Morning prayer at the Center for Action and Contemplation here in A-town, just not on sundays, but on tuesdays, fridays or heaven forbid, every single fucking day?