For the most part, I have stayed away from religion and politics on my site. A search for my name or easily discernible sign on names (e.g. SendakSeuss) will likely point the curious to sites where I have allowed myself to get sucked into political commentary, but I don’t believe you will find too much Tim on religion out there where anyone and everyone can read it. I like to think I’ve done a good job keeping my religious beliefs close to my chest. But what I have chosen not to say or do might reveal just as much. Namely, I don’t believe I have taken the time here to acknowledge my father’s site, interesting since I helped him set it up. Maybe no one has noticed, hell my site doesn’t get that much attention, but I have noticed my failure to say, “hey, check out what I set up for my dad and what he has done with it.” He’s gained a number of readers since my brother and I got him set up and blogging – and has since gone on to publish a book.
My beliefs might have been different had my parents remained married and my father remained a Baptist minister, but I like to think my mind is my own and I would think about religion the way I do regardless of the path that got me here.
What I have done is been silent and let some people who matter deeply to me believe that I am a believer as they are, and at times I have felt like a fraud for doing so. I envy my sister Kelli’s faith, but I know the way the fibers are presently connected in my brain will never allow me to be the Christian she is. I have no desire to change her beliefs to align with mine, and am not so arrogant to think I could do so, but I have asked myself a number of times, “how can she believe so strongly in something that just seems to be another myth to me?” And with my father, I do the same. Ive tried to have faith, maybe I still do, but as of yet I don’t. Perhaps it’s because I am still looking at people despite my Grandmother K’Lee’s advice.
I visited with her while home on leave. She was dying from cancer and it would be the last time we spoke. She asked me if I was reading my Bible. I told her I wasn’t. I told her when I looked at the way people were, the things so many people did, I could not have faith – I could not be bothered with the Bible. She did not scold me or get on any sort of religious high horse, she simply said “it’s not your job to look at people, that’s God’s job – let Him do his job.”
The internet has made it even more difficult for me to follow Grandma’s advice. I’ve had to discipline myself to ignore most of the comments posted on sites I visit. I try to walk a line but on any given issue I may find myself far right or far left of someone, and I wonder how they could possibly think the way they do.
I’ve used this as an excuse to not write as frequently as I believe I should. On any issue I feel I will find myself either preaching to the choir or to the deaf – thus writing often feels to be a waste of time. But I am deciding now to write more frequently. I’m starting to believe maybe my voice is the one that needs to be heard.
Good job, Son. You know how I appreciate your help, admire your ability, and respect your ability to think for yourself. I also appreciate your candor, and don’t believe you’re through thinking yet.
You also nailed it about Kelli and your Grandmother. In a world where there’s so much counterfeit, it is a refreshing exception to encounter genuine, authentic currency.
Thanks for bringing up the site. It would never have reached daylight without you and Jonathan. Thanks for enabling me to say some things which I feel are true and helpful. I leave the disposition of my work to the judgment of God and others.
Did you get the yellowed writings I sent? That kind of thing continues to matter greatly to sentimental me. Love and pride, dad
I did get the copies of past letters I sent you. Thanks. Maybe if I become famous those letters will get published by historians. Some of my favorite writing to read is correspondence – whether it be famous authors or commoners throughout history. I find it to be the most authentic form of writing. Recently The New Yorker had some letters from Saul Bellow to various people that helped push me to get back to writing. I don’t know what I did with the magazine otherwise I would send it your way.