Seriously one of the most confounding things in the world is pop-Christian moralizing.

"Is ASMR ok for Christians?? 🤨🤔😧" I'm not sure in what world it would be sinful to listen to soothing brushing, ocean sounds, and tapping, yet someone felt the need to ask the question, and someone else felt the need to make a YouTube video answering it. (I didn't watch it, so I don't know the verdict, but somehow you're trusting the verdict to a rando on YouTube and not Discernment from God?)

"Christian facials" because having a hot towel on your face and putting on serum is in any way aligned with a religion or lack thereof, and therefore needs to/even Can be made Christian?

"Christian-friendly sex positions" and the only difference is it's stick figures instead of realistic drawings, and instead of male/female or penetrator/receiver, it's husband/wife. Because you know those goofy health-book illustrations were distracting you from the righteous goal at hand: eating your girl out. But you can't call her your girl, you have to make it clear to everyone seeing you have sex (which... is just the 2 of you, right?) that you're having Good and Not Sinful sex, because you, a Husband, are Married to your Wife. Side note: the stick figures actively make it harder to figure out the intricacies of any of the positions and therefore are objectively shittier at doing what they're made to do.

Christian soap, christian mints, christian calendars, christian music, christian curtains, christian fiction, christian restaurants, christian news, christian shops. There are things in the world that are OK being secular. The fact that your soap does not have an icthus sign etched in that washes away in 3 days anyway does not make you a bad person, or even a bad christian. Your home does not need something Christian™️ in every room for people (or yourself!) not to forget you're christian... I assume?

The king who must say he is king, etcetera. This kind of mindset is so boggling to me, and reeks of nominative faith and deeeeep insecurity. Retail therapy but instead of buying temporary happiness you're buying temporary grace. Being so beholden to the dogma of organized religion that you go to any person feigning authority on the subject rather than using your own brain to make a decision. The idea that things can only be okay to interact with if they're explicitly christian, as though interacting with it as a christian doesn't inherently put it through a christian lens; as though you can only get things trickled down to you from church authority figures with robust enough constitutions to judge what's ok for you because you don't have the ability to think critically; as though you should stay away from what's "sinful" rather than, LIKE JESUS, be able to go into it and be a good example; as though instead of learning to be capable of handling it, you should be as weak to sin as possible; as though you have to go through the world with kid gloves because touching something dirty would soil your soul (which, of course this implies, is sparkling - impossible, arrogant, and kind of denying God, lol [actually, not lol, I'm expanding on that. Denying God by refusing to admit your own sin. Denying God by refusing his grace because you won't admit your own sin. Denying God by acting like his power couldn't absolve something as simple as being exposed to sin, let alone if you did end up making a miatake. Denying God by keeping yourself in Good Christian spaces and not being there for people who need outside help. There's more but I digress]).

Also, the childish áffect of refusing to say things as they are because that would be bad, but referring to it in euphamism is fine - or, transversely, that using colloquialisms is bad, but medical speak is fine, depending on what breed of crackpot christian you're dealing with. "Hanky-panky" just say sex. "Adult drinks" just say wine, beer, liquor. "Flower" for the love of all that is holy just say vulva/vagina/virginity. "Breasts" is fine to describe your chest but "boobs" is not. You can say "buttocks" but not "butt". Discussing bathroom activities is decisively not cool but if utterly necessary you must say "urine" and "feces" because pee and poop are too pedestrian.

Like, entire side tangent, but the weirdly widespread christian-ism of not discussing things frankly or discussing them super detachedly, but both preferring to never discuss them at all, regarding anything "potentially sinful" or "not spiritually uplifting" (usually boiling down to "anything physical") is so whack to me. Do not discuss your period, even in female spaces, because it's tmi. Don't talk about your health issues if they're not Clean enough subjects, even as something to pray about (like breast/prostate cancer, shitting diseases). Don't ever talk about your sex life except to wiggle your eyebrows at your kids when they're old enough. Don't hug your male friends, daughter. Don't play with your little cousins, son. Sex is so so bad but everything is about it, actually. Sex is so so great which is why you should feel guilty about ever wanting it. All nudity is sexual. Dress so they know you're a woman but also that you're a lady. Fart jokes are not allowed. You must remember that all men are looking at you with lust at all times but you can't hold that against them. All things that get you sweaty or muddy are bad. Hair on women is unnatural but just dandy for men, except we can't talk about pubic hair so you're just going to have to figure out on your own if it's less sinful to not think about your vag enough to do anything to it or to ensure you're free of all sinful hair. Here's how to do makeup in a god-honoring way, because you couldn't know on your own, and you must both jump through this hoop to be acceptable to your men but not have enough fun and personal expression with it for it to become anything other than a chore. It is wrong to kill, which is why we support the troops. We are supposed to help the poor, which is why I drive past the beggars that are dirty and ragged and smelly. We are supposed to celebrate God with our bodies, which is why my most spiritually moved state equates to slightly raising my arms.

I can't close this post without including my oft-quoted favorite example of this weird-ass pop-Christian phenomenon translating to real-life people in real-time thoughts: my mom saying she had to take into account "which ice cream flavor is most glorifying to God" at a froyo shop. Either it's raspberry, or she chose sin that day.

Is it currently raining where you are? No, but it is snowing, though. I think it’s going to be a mix at some point today, though.

What’s something that you have been wanting to say to someone? I REALLY want to fucking say something to my brother in law but I don’t want my relationship with my nieces to be strained. What’s your favorite thing to do at the end of the day? Just chill out? Maybe have a small sweet snack and play something on my phone or computer or watch TV with Mark. When did you last use a lighter or matches? The other day.

  Do you or anyone you know have covid or the flu? Not currently. Do you have a hard time letting things go? Yeah. What did you last have to eat? The last thing I ate was last night’s dinner which was cajun chicken sandwiches. Are you allergic to anything that is unusual? Some medication called bactrim or something. It’s for UTIs. When did you last feel fear? Always in a stare of some kind of fear/panic honestly. What did you last drop? A food container. Luckily nothing spilled out of it. Have you ever been to a Halloween themed amusement park? Fright Fest at 6 Flags? What’s something about your health that you would like to change? My weight. When did you last look on the mirror? This morning.  What color is your favorite shirt? Black. What last made you smile? A picture I saw on IG. Have you ever walked through a sunflower field? Yes. How often do you listen to music? At least once a day, in some form or another. Are you a fan of Taylor Swift? What’s your favorite song from her? She has some incredibly catchy songs and I’m actually digging her new album a lot. My favorite song off of there is probably Maroon. But All Too Well (10 Min Version) is definitely my favorite of her’s. Would you be happy if you got a lifetime supply of the last thing you purchased? A lifetime supply of gas would actually be amazing. What’s something great that has happened to you recently? I mean, a small handful of things. How old were you when you had your first best friend? Kindergarten. Do you believe that anything is infinite? No. What did you last order from a fast food restaurant? I took my nieces to McDonald’s the other day after school and I ordered a small root beer and some fries for myself; a double cheese burger (with JUST pickles, Auntie!!!!!!!!!), fries, and a small root beer for my 9yo niece; and a4pc McNugget Happy Meal with fries and a chocolate milk for my 4yo niece. How often do you have to purchase shampoo and conditioner? Maybe once a month or more? Mark has like no hair and I don’t wash mine that often (dry shampoo is my best friend), especially when it’s freshly dyed. What was the last pain you’ve had on your body? My feet are killing me. Is there anything currently bothering you? ^The aforementioned feet Would you ever paint your bedroom bright blue? Certain shades of it, perhaps. What’s your favorite way to eat rice? Weird, this question was on the last survey I did too. I think I said “with my mouth” as the answer like a smart ass, but now I will say “rolled up in sushi.” Do you currently have a window open? No, its freezing here. What kind of jacket do you like wearing most? A puffy one that goes past my butt. Do you own a sherpa blanket? Yes. Are you currently wearing something green? I am not. Have you recently lost something? I can’t remember. What’s something that has really impacted your life? My brother in law entering my sister’s life. What scents can you currently smell? The perfume I used a bit of this morning. What did you last have as a snack? A Snickers bar. Are you currently listening to music? No. Would you say you’re a strong person? In some ways, sure. What’s something you miss from the past? Road trips. When did you last rush for something? ...this was in the last survey too....I rushed to get to work again today. I absolutely need to work on this. I need to go to bed earlier. Do you require a lot of personal space or do you enjoy being around people often? I like space, but I do like being around people today. Have you drank enough water today? I am starting to think this survey stole exact questions from another one, or vise versa, because this one was also in the last one. Anyway, it’s still early. Do you like lima beans? I’m not sure, actually. I haven’t tried them in a while. What was the last lie you told? Uhhhh. What did you last plug into an outlet? The Christmas lights in the office. Do you have anything due soon? The credit card bill is due tomorrow. How many bottles do you see from where you’re sitting? I can see two water bottles, a bottle of some sort of cleaning agent, and a bottle of hand sanitizer. What was the last thing you took a picture of? A couple of ornaments on the tree.

“If this is the worst thing that happens to us, we will live”

I put off doing this post for a while because I knew it would drain me so, so much emotionally. I did not want to rush it because I wanted to be able to truly articulate my feelings into something that would help me grieve this incomparable loss while also exposing the light that she shined in this world. 

At the end of January, I lost my favorite person my world has ever known. She was my very best friend and the first friend that I ever had. She had many names; Nana was how I came to know her. Others knew her as Mary Frances, or mom, or Fanny, or Mrs. Carr, the faithful schoolteacher and librarian that would never hesitate to discipline when she saw fit. 

The bond the two of us shared is so incredibly hard to put into words. The easiest way to explain it would be to simply say that I was her favorite just as much as she was mine. She was not ashamed nor afraid to admit that I was her favorite either, and that only added to our relationship. The amount of hours I spent with that woman is probably somewhere in the tens of thousands (I think that’s a lot; the two of us never were good with math). Countless hours spent by the pool or in front of the tv, or, much too often, secretly at a restaurant or in a drive-thru somewhere. I have so many incredible childhood memories with nana- much too many to accurately describe and list without unintentionally leaving one of the best ones out. However, the biggest impact she has left with me is all the things she taught me along the way. So many invaluable lessons that will stick with me until I leave this earth. That is my goal of writing this- to delve deep into the way that this woman’s knowledge is engrained in everything I do. Every single soul that she came into contact with in her 86 years of life would be forever changed from that point forward. 

Whenever we would be complaining about something she was doing, she would never fail to reply with “When I’m gone, you’re going to wish I was here to *do said activity warranting complaint*”, and, dammit, if that woman wasn’t right again. 

I miss the way a room lit up when she would enter; whether we knew she was coming or not, her appearance instantly made things more lively. I miss the way she was not very skilled in the kitchen, but she knew this and would never hesitate to admit the fact while offering to go with you to buy food from someone or somewhere who did know what they were doing. I will give credit where credit is due, though, she could make a mean ham sandwich. I miss the days where she would get up in the mornings just to take me to school before I could drive. She would do this in the summer as well- getting up at the crack of dawn to take me to football workouts and then waiting for me so that we could eat before I had to go to basketball workouts immediately after. I miss that she would come to my junior varsity basketball games, even when no one could come with her, just so she knew I felt supported. I miss the days at her pool that she so dearly loved, filled with all of her family and favorite humans that loved her just as much. I miss the way she would be running around the house whenever company was there, making sure that everyone had anything and everything they needed or wanted and that anyone present felt included. I miss the way she would decorate for every single holiday- I’m talking Valentine’s Day placemats to Santa Clause toilet seat covers that made it virtually impossible to urinate standing up. I miss shopping trips to Dillard’s and and having to match her pace on the walk to the food court, which would be much quicker than her normal gait. I miss rides in the countless, consecutive white Honda Odysseys- or, when I was old enough to drive, driving her around because that was easier than hearing her say “so you’re just going to sit there and let your eighty-some-odd year old grandmother drive you around”. I miss that she would never give up a free meal, even if that meant she had to suffer through hamburger steak at the local American Legion. I miss her phone calls and pictures on Sundays to let me know she wore her Auburn scarf to church after they had won. I miss the outfits she wore that matched so perfectly- she had quite the extensive collection of shoes in her 80 years, much of which were the same style but different colors. I miss her two favorite outfits: the white turtleneck and windsuit combo or the denim shirt and denim pants with the denim purse to match. I miss the conversations in her sacred living room, filled with stories of the past that made her the woman she came to be. I miss how she would blatantly tell you if she did not think you looked your best; from asking if I needed to go see her hairdresser, Mayumi, to letting me know that the pants I was wearing “surely aren’t the nicest pair I own”. I miss the habitual ordering of her unsweet teas, and god help anyone that accidentally brought her a sweet tea. I also miss her ordering Long Island iced teas when she was feeling particularly dangerous, which she would complain was too sweet and/or strong and proceed to water down after every sip she consumed. I miss how she knew the daily specials for each day of the week from every restaurant within a 10 mile radius from her home. I miss having to come down to her house and help her put in her contacts because she could not make her keep her own eye open; us helping would only, in turn, make it more difficult because she would end up fighting the process more with us than when she was doing it herself. I miss getting into her car and hearing god-awful conservative talk radio, and then trying my very best not to get her feathers all ruffled up about our conflicting political opinions. I miss bringing her almond Hershey’s bars that she would eat despite whichever diet she was trying to keep. I miss watching her, essentially, slap her phone with her fingers when trying to type or scroll, and getting upset when it did not work exactly how she intended. I miss how she was always trying or offering to help with a task, even when it was something she would never be able to physically or mentally do- she just wanted you to know that she was there and would do anything ever asked of her because that was the type of person she was. I miss her voice. I miss her smile. I miss her laugh. I miss her hugs, her touch, her infectious personality. I miss her with every ounce of my being, and I never thought I would have to go through this life without her by my side, coordinating where and when we were going to have our next meal. 

She would always tell me “you will wish you were half as smart as I am when you are 80″, and, you guessed it, right again. What she lacked in knowledge or wit, she made up with tenfold in wisdom and understanding of how the world works. I like to believe that she lived to see everything in this world that she wanted to see. I definitely believe, if she were here, she would say she has lived the happiest and fullest life any old woman could dream of. She loved her kids. She loved her friends. She loved her grandkids, especially, and there was not a single thing she would not do for anyone she cared about. 

She understood what truly mattered in this life, and I think that is why she was so deeply etched into everyone’s lives. She was so perfectly content with her little house and pool that everyone would come to for hot summer days or any holiday on the calendar, and we were all overjoyed with the chance to go there because we were always met with good spirits and the overall essence of being extremely cared about. 

I could go on for days about you, Nana. The things that you taught me, or did for me, or that I miss, or that I remember, but all of it contributes to the fact that you will always be a part of my life- all of our lives. I only wish you could have been at your funeral to see everyone’s lives you impacted. I wish you could have seen all the beautiful flowers and heartfelt messages attached. I wish you could have seen how good your hair looked because I know that would have been the first thing on your mind. 

You always talked about your burial plot in Tennessee, and everyone remembers the extremely morbid picture you have with it that you thought was so funny, much to the disappointment of others. You talked about having a bunch of strong men in the family to be pallbearers when that day came, but that was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. 

I carried my very favorite person to her forever resting spot, and watched as they lowered you into the ground. We all said our goodbyes and went our separate ways to try and return to our lives, but I don’t know if I, myself, will ever be able to. An integral part of my life left me that day. I look up at the sky sometimes, and try to think of you looking down on me, proud- or possibly upset with current hairstyle choice. But that’s not where I truly see or feel you. 

I feel your presence in the decisions I make. I feel you in the way that I view life’s situations. I see you in the color yellow, which you so much enjoyed. I feel your positivity reaching out from my memory of you. 

“If this is the worst thing that happens to us, we will live” you always said. I do my best to live by that every single day. I pray we get the chance to meet again one day, Nana, because I want nothing more than to hug my favorite person just one more time- and you don’t have to slip me a $20 bill this time.