Free Angry Conversations with God by Susan E. Isaacs Page B

first prayer as a “married” woman
     went something like this:
    Dear God, I know I’ve done everything wrong and you hate me. From now on I’m going to do everything right so you’ll love me.
     I’m going to read the Bible every day and pray. I’m going to ask for your guidance on everything. I’m never ever going to
     have sex again! Well, until I get married to a real guy.
    Amazing what getting a new life does to your energy level. I got into action! I went on the Scarsdale diet and lost fifteen
     pounds. I looked and felt great, so I kept on going. I got down to ninety-two pounds and lost my menstrual cycle. But anorexia
     had its perks. It sure made chastity easy: it’s hard to be horny when you’re not ovulating. But who cared? God had a wonderful
     plan for my life, and Jesus was leading the way. “Come on, Susan! Anything can happen! It’s the eighties!”

    We had a great honeymoon, Jesus and I. I wanted to spend all my time with him, soaking up the love I’d pushed away for so
     long. I listened to Nancy’s Christian rock songs about how Jesus loved me. I sang about how I loved him back. I woke up every
     morning, and before I had breakfast—which as an anorexic wasn’t much—I spent hours hanging out with God and reading the Bible
     to find out what he had in store.
    Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you
    by your name; you are Mine.…Since you were
    precious in My sight, you have been honored, and
    I have loved you. (Isa. 43:1, 4 NKJV)
    The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save.
    He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you
    with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.
    (Zeph. 3:17)
    I hadn’t felt that loved since my father scooped me up as a child. When you’re loved, you want to love back. My sister’s pastor
     called it “discovering God’s will for your life.” I prayed, “Lord, I want to know what your will is for me every moment. I
     don’t want to do anything, go anywhere, or make any decision without you. Like today: should I eat grapefruit or can I have
     a muffin? Just show me!” Sometimes it took a long time to get out of the room.
    But that’s how it is when you’re in love. Your senses are heightened; everything is loaded with meaning. I’d smell a gardenia
     and think,
Wow, God. That is so “you“! You are such an artist!
I’d hear Elvis Costello and think,
Yeah, Lord. What
is
so funny about peace, love, and understanding?
I was no longer alone in a beige void, going nowhere. The Maker of the universe had a will for my life. All I had to do was
     discover it.

    I’d always loved movies. I applied to UCLA’s film school. It was a long shot, but I had to get out of UC Irvine’s beige purgatory.
     One of Nancy’s Christian rock songs said that if I did my best, God would take care of the rest. I got into UCLA. This prayer
     thing worked!
    Film school was a blast. I loved writing scripts; I loved editing. I discovered new notes to play. Grad students asked me
     to act in their thesis projects so I played the acting note too. Yes, there were geeks doing
Star Wars
takeoffs with toasters. There were Goth lesbian performance artists diving deep into their own cesspool dreams and making
     art out of it. It wasn’t my kind of art, but it was art. And I wanted to make art.
    “I’m so disappointed you’re a Christian,” a film-school friend said. “You’re too smart and cool for that.”
    “Christians can be cool and smart!” I was lying. I hadn’t met any cool, smart Christians yet. I met some of those Crusaders
     who passed out tracts. I met a Christian cheerleader, but no Christian artists. Church was packed with cheerleaders. Film
     school was packed with Goth lesbians from Silver Lake. I didn’t fit anywhere. Too wild for the church, too tame for the world.
     It was art versus faith all over again.
    I had to find a way to play my faith note and my art note. Actually, I was playing several artistic notes. Which one was