I published someone else’s words earlier this week as a cross-reference to this post. “Martyrdom Virtue”.
In reading through the homily from one of my friends about how their god finds them by the virtue of their labors in keeping the home fires burning, it just pissed me off.
So much passive-aggressive martyrdom, and for what purpose?
If god exists, won’t he find me even if I choose to sit and vegetate? Why must my life and my value as a female be weighed against my sacrifice?
Contrasting all those thoughts with the war I’m quietly waging with the houseguest as she takes over my home, I think I’m taking Cindy’s viewpoint of the never-ending drudgery. It’s not virtuous, it’s indentured servitude, and I didn’t sign up to live this way.
I want my miracle, with the houseguest finding her own place and leaving me in peace ! If god requires a martyr, then he’s come to the wrong house.