My god.

My god is non-binary. My god’s pronouns are they/their. When I summon my god, I don’t really pray so much as I think about the issues I’m struggling with and wish I could handle them better. But if I had to call what I’m doing praying, it mostly sounds like this: “Please keep us safe. Please give me strength. Please let me know the right thing to do.”

My god doesn’t take on any appearance or form other than that of a sparkly, blurry kind of energy that appears as golden sunlight or light snowfall or a child’s laughter. My god is a combination of energy/universe/presence. When I’m pretty sure my god is in evidence, it feels like love — and that’s it. No disappointment, no criticism, no “should you really have that second glass of wine?” Just love; warmish, accepting love — but not too much — not smothering, as they would pretty much prefer I make my own decisions.

My god and their liaison, Jesus, wouldn’t like abortion very much, but they would love and forgive those who had one. Or performed one.

This whole train of thought came about as I was skimming an online conversation on social media about why so-called Christians are supporting Trump. According to this discussion, all the confounding support and behavior coming from both Republicans and evangelicals these days is happening for the sole purpose of reversing Roe v. Wade. We’ve already seen harmful legislation that aims to regulate women’s bodies and physicians’ careers. No need to ask the question, “how far will they go?” Not with Trump as president. The bottom line is that Trump is tolerated because the Republican right wants judges who will criminalize abortion. Correct me if I’m wrong, but — as far as Christianity goes, there’s really only that one judge, no? Judge not lest ye be judged? Isn’t it God?

I’m not a big fan of abortion either. I have friends who have had to make this decision and it has been — each and every time — gut-wrenching. The worst decision to make ever, fraught with guilt, pain, remorse. There is nothing to feel good about when deciding to have an abortion. I am so grateful that I have never had to face this decision, because to this day, I have no idea what I would do myself. There’s really no way any one can take this decision out of a woman’s hands — it is hers and hers alone. And don’t yap back at me about the baby’s life . . . that is a manipulative and cruel argument that doesn’t even make any sense. For a woman to remove a part of her own body, for whatever reason she had to do so, isn’t any of your damn business. How she makes peace with herself and the part of her body that she gave up is for her and her alone to know. My god would be sad for the woman who had to carry out such a choice and would love her and wrap her in love.

I’m a child of god and so are you. And so is he and so is she and so are they. That means no one gets loved more or less and we’re all just out here doing our best. We don’t get to decide for others what they should be doing based on the religion to which we happen to ascribe and we really, really shouldn’t prop up authoritarian narcissists who are putting hundreds of thousands — maybe millions — of other lives at risk (women, immigrants, trans people, children supported by welfare, etc., etc.) simply because we want to make decisions for others. It’s something to pray about. Or rather, think about it.