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Her genial attitude had its limits, however, and those limits made themselves rather abruptly known every time one of her religious relatives or her parents’ well-meaning church friends pushed the idea of faith healing on her or urged her to reconvert before her death. In a particularly ballsy move, a former college roommate named Kaitlyn had emerged from the depths of social media and taken the opportunity to tout the healing abilities of her essential oils. She’d been more than happy to offer to sell Lily a bottle or twelve and stated that it worked best when combined with prayer. Lily’s
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“No, I have to go to Hell! My foster mom and Mr. Pastor always said that when I died I was going to go to Hell, and that I better do as I was told. I have to go to Hell, or I’m going to get into trouble, and I don’t want to get into trouble!” She grew more panicked with every word. Fear, real fear, was in those blue eyes. Icy fury shot through Lily’s veins, even as her soul melted for this child who was clearly so sweet and so scared.
No innocent child should think they belonged in Hell. She knew all too well the damage that particular belief could cause.
Once upon a time, Lily had read a story, allegedly from a former Snow White character actor, where she’d said that “when you are hugging a child, always be the last one to let go. You never know how long they need it.” Lily didn’t think the advice was broadly applicable, given the number of creeps out there, but in this instance, she took it to heart.
Seeing herself as unimportant was safe. Unimportance was safe, being a disappointment was safe. There were no expectations, no standards, no more pedestals to fall from.
When she’d gone to them for help after her assault. When she had the audacity to be different, listening to secular music and reading fantasy books, something acceptable at home but not in the church. The unconditional love she’d been told to expect had had some conditions after all.
How many times had she told her friends that no one’s opinion of them mattered more than their own? She’d cheered for them as they learned to care for themselves, to see themselves as wonderful and flawed and complicated and unique, convincing herself that while others deserved to take up space in the world, she was inherently too much, required too much space and effort.
Afraid. I spent my entire life afraid. What a fucking waste.
“Cancer may not be sung about in songs, or woven into a tapestry but that does not make the heart and fight required to combat it a lesser thing.” Lily kept her instinctive flinch to just a blink. “There are many battles worthy of Valhalla, no matter what the stories may say. I’m sure you’re aware by now the nuances of reality when it comes to the Afterlife. Not all the souls who find belonging in my hall spilled blood, and not all of them reside here permanently. You are no less a warrior than any soul in this hall, Lily of the Hellp Desk, and you are always welcome.”
“Are you a target or a treasure?” Suzanne had asked them over and over. “If you dress and act like a target, you will be treated like a target. But if you dress and act like a treasure, you will be treated like a treasure.”
“You need to beg God for forgiveness, Lily. That only happened because your faith has been lacking. If you’ve really been living for Christ, that wouldn’t have happened to you. God was trying to get your attention in a big way, because he loves you. You should really examine what’s been going on in your heart that led to this happening. And,” she’d sighed, “you need to pray for your future husband’s forgiveness for this. This is a stain on your purity as a result of your lack of faith. Pray that your husband is a forgiving man.”
recognize that the churches, especially the ones formed in my name but not my ideals, have turned into something that no longer truly helps humanity, but causes harm and provides a refuge for the harmful.
