Jesus used to love me, but now I'm not so sure.

Good news! This blog is not about another sexual experience of mine in a church.

Last month my sister gave me a book that she had gotten for free at a librarian conference. All I remember her saying was that it was a murder mystery and also a Christian book. I wanted to read it - and I like reading just about anything (except the instruction manuals to ANYTHING) especially when I'm getting ready to fall asleep. It helps to relax me and keep my mind off of things that might stress me out and have me tossing and turning. So I started reading it a couple of nights ago. The book is "Isolation" by Travis Thrasher.

It oscillates between sweet sappy Christian stuff (the husband is a missionary who thinks in Italic print to God) and...well...evil horror.

I'm only about 45 pages into it and I can't read any further.

Two nights ago I read about how the wife thought that she saw someone creeping up the stairs from her kitchen into her son's bedroom. She was sure this invader was going to kidnap her son. And even though she knew her husband would think that she was crazy and "having another episode, she followed the guy up the stairs WITH A KITCHEN KNIFE. She got ready to stab the person and then her husband shook her awake and she became aware that she almost killed her son.

Last night I read a part where she was in her car watching the snow fall and then realized that dark mud was appearing on her windshield. She turned her windshield wipers on high only to find out that the smearing was coming from flesh hitting her windshield. It was blood and flesh. "A thick gooey mass hit the side of her window, and something that looked like intestines slithered down the glass"..."suddenly the smell and the grime and the light-headedness and the knot in her stomach were all too much. She keeled over and threw up on the floorboard of the passenger seat."

Mmmmmm.

THEN in the next chapter her son (Zachary) gets a call where a guy on the phone calls him by name.

The call is filled with the guy asking questions about the son - including asking how old he is. At one point the guy asks, "Do you want to know something, Zachary? Do you want to know something I know?"..."You're never going to see your ninth birthday, Zach. You're never going to get off that mountain in North Carolina. Do you know why? Because you're going to die up there, Zach. I've seen it. You're going to-" and then the kid drops the phone and runs into the closet.

So I'm sitting there, reading at midnight last night and my heart is pounding and all I can think to do is rationalize.

I am not an 8 year old boy who just got off the phone with a creepy man.
Today when it was snowing, I never thought it was flesh hitting my windshield.
While I've never had the desire to do so before, I am certainly never going to North Carolina.

But seriously, the thing I couldn't get over is that THIS is supposed to be a Christian novel. And I can't see it. Even if it's some weird "sorry I doubted you, God" type book, I can't see how this level of horror would appeal to anyone that I have ever gone to church with.

I found myself literally praying to God last night because I was so scared.

Saying stuff like, "Hey God. Are you there? It's me, Anne. Wait...is that similar to a book title? It totally is! Wasn't that the one where that girl got her period? Yeah. I thought so. Anyway, speaking of things that freak people out, I just read part of this book. A CHRISTIAN book. You know, like they took your kid's name in vain? Anyway, it was totally creeptacular. And now when I close my eyes I see flesh. And I don't even have a passenger side of the car handy for me to throw up in. Seriously, God. I'm going to have nightmares all night long. So I know how I told you that I wanted Josh Hernsberger to eventually regret never liking me when we were in the 4th grade? Well, I'm willing to trade that wish for a night of sleep that does not involve sleepwalking, killing a kid I don't have, seeing flesh hit my windshield, or being an 8 year old boy with a creepy man on the phone. Is that okay? Alright then. Peace out. Also, thanks for dying for me. Oh, and I'm sorry for stealing a pack of Bubbleicious from the PX when I was 7."

And I woke up this morning with no pain and also no visions of bloody sugarplums.

So Jesus does love me after all...

Good news? If you want a great bedtime story, please just email me and I'll totally send one to you FREE OF CHARGE.