A few weeks ago, I had one of those conversations you'd just rather not have with people who don't know you well. I was at work and chatting with one of the ladies in the call center. Most of the women at work are openly extremely religious. Not to the point of making me uncomfortable (thankfully, no one has informed me I'm going to hell...yet), but I've heard a few "Praise Jesus'" and in-depth discussions on why people should accept Jesus as their Savior that don't seem to fit with a professional workplace.
To avoid such conversations, I've made no secret of the fact that I come from a diverse background religiously. My family became even more diverse with the additions of my brother in law and husband and his family. So now our religious mix includes not only Methodism, Judaism (Reform), but also Greek Orthodox, Hinduism and a little dash of Buddhism. Not being particular when it comes to religion, I think this is awesome.
Unfortunately, my somewhat unusual household has generated almost equal enthusiasm and curiosity among some of my co-workers, with a few of them asking me what religion I'll raise my son. When I said that my husband and I planned to educate him as much as he was able to absorb on the religious mish mash that is his family and let him decide, I was met with surprised stares. Then, "That's okay - God is love, baby, God is love. I don't think you're going to hell."
Wait, what?? I realize that was meant as something positive - or at least that's how I'll take it - but seriously, I have never received such a backhanded...thing. It's even worse than when someone tells you that you look great now that you've lost all that freakin' weight. I don't even know what to call that. Approval? Comment? Compliment? Reassurance? What would she have said if I smilingly told her that, au contraire, we were going to hell because we were going to instruct Ragsy in the drinking of blood under the full moon? Perhaps I should have gone that route. I'd probably get fewer questions.
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