Tag Archives: God

God Knows My Struggle, So It’s…Okay?

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If you dating Black women I don’t feel bad for you son, but you’ll have 99 problems and God will be one.

Okay, that didn’t work like I wanted it to but what I was trying to say via Jay-Z was that if you’re a man who is dating Black women, there’s a really good chance that God, Jesus, and ‘nem will enter into your relationship at some point. The Holy Trinity has definitely crip walked into nearly every relationship that I’ve had, usually in the form of me being questioned for not going to church. It’s come up time and time again within each relationship I’ve been in. I think I just have a thing for church girls…or at least I did until I realized that I like to date Black women that read, in which case, well, nearly all of them are church girls.

Amen.

This is not really a problem, mind you, though it does present an issue when you hear “ohhhhhh God” as much as I do…wait…what was I saying?

Moving on.

Now dating church girls presents very few issues in terms of religion. Since most of us are reared in church of some sort, dating a woman who would like to pray together and worship together is pretty much par the course. And I’m saying, most of us have that old time religion in our bones. I love the Bible and one of the best gifts I ever received was a Bible. I treasure that thing. I love God and all that jazz.

Here’s where it starts to present an issue and I’m speaking about women here because I’ve never really spoken to any men who (admittedly) go through this same struggle. But it seems like many women struggle with being “Christian” and what that requires and how that can get in the way of (forgive me for putting it that way Jesus, strike somebody else and come back to me later) “relationshipping”. Unless you have two people who are truly on the same page of celibacy, there’s a very good chance that there will be some smanging going on. Obviously, sex can get in the way of getting closer to God, so to speak, since you’re supposed to wait until you’re married for many more reasons than just religious, but most of us tend to realize that while everybody is probably doing it, that doesn’t make it okay to do if you’re truly on a walk with God.

That make sense?

You may not know this about me, but I’m overly cynical and sometimes too logical and contrarian for my own good. It can be a nitrous combination at times. What this all means in laymen’s terms is that I will eventually get into some debate about whether or not sex should actually be taking place. I almost feel at times like I’m enabling somebody’s walk away from God and its unfair for them to put me in that position. I’ve offered to stop engaging in such practice to ensure that my other half could work towards their goal of Godliness. And nearly EVERY time, I’ve been met with four words:

God knows my struggle.

Or it’s kissin’ cousin, God knows my heart.

Scrrrrrrrr.

Or more simply, I like sex and have no intention of stopping this because it brings me joy. I don’t really do anything else wrong so I don’t feel any type of way about this short of the guilt you’re laying on me right now. God made sex and made it so pleasurable so maybe he intended for it to happen this way.

Now, I’m no religious scholar. I mean, I pray (well I say my grace before I eat at least…but I do pray on occasion) and II read my Bible and I love me some praise and worship music. Basically, I’m no expert on religious doctrine or rules, but I’m fairly certain that God knowing your struggle doesn’t make it better. It just means that he knows it exists. But seeing as he knows it exists in you and that you have acknowledged its existence, he would also know that you’d likely have the capacity to work on it. Right?

Which means that the whole, “God knows my struggle” thing is basically a cop out, no? No shade here or anything, but can you really be working on something if your default reaction is that its a struggle you have, therefore you deserve some slack. While I realize that we as human beings have needs, or wants, I do think that for something like sex we also have the ability to put a stop to it. I know…temptation is real and very present. And engaging in pleasures of the flesh is a satisfying dish. However, if you claim to be looking towards getting closer to God, how can you say that you’re trying in the sex regard if you’re still willing to engage in sex? I know its hard to go cold turkey and dispel the advances. And hell, there’s a good chance based on the things you see and read (even here) that not giving up the goodies places one in a space of presumed singledom.

I’m not sure I completely agree with that, but I do understand the logic and get why that would be a concern.

So what’s the solution? Only date people who are on the exact same walk you are on? Even folks in church ain’t on that walk most times. How do I know? Well…aside from the obvious…I’m just saying. Like can you just keep moving along in the ways of the word and all while still copping out by suggesting that you’re good except for that one struggle and you’re “working on it?”

What say you? And here’s a question as this was mostly tailored to women, do men struggle like this or are we just accepted heathens? I’m truly curious.

Does God know your struggle (as you guzzle a 40?)

Love 40.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. GOD KNOWS MY HEART aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3, AMEN

I Never Thought I’d…

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I never thought I'd wake up to this every morning.

“If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans”

There are myriad reasons why Woody Allen’s famous quote annoys the hell out of me, none more prominent than the fact that it suggests that the master of the universe has a pretty shitty sense of humor. I mean, God has been around forever (give or take a couple trillion years or so), and if we take Allen’s quote to heart, He has the same sense of humor as that asexual asshole high school guidance counselor who guffawed when you told her you wanted to be a professional clown.

Maybe it’s just me, but I prefer to think of my creator as being a bit more self-deprecating. I imagine God sitting around, deleting voicemails from Kelly Price and thinking things like “Uranus. Ha! What the hell was I smoking when I farted out that wack-ass planet? That place is about as useless as tits on a bull.”

Anyway, while I think God would be kind of a dick if He found humor in the fact that we can’t predict the future — which, since He didn’t see the need to give us that power, is like clowning an Elephant for not being able to make mango salsa — I do actually think it’s (occasionally) amusing when life throws us curveballs; putting us in situations we never, ever, ever thought we’d be in.

For instance, I am not an animal person. I don’t hate them or anything — well, I don’t hate any animals aside from gotdamn f*cking deer and the bird who finds a way to shit on my car three days a week — but I’m just a guy who’d prefer to live an animal and pet free life. Perhaps I’m scarred from the fact that my last pets — goldfish named fred and freda — got their dumb asses killed because my neighbor gave them too much food and they ate themselves to death. (This really happened, btw) Who knows?

But, I do know that I never thought that I’d end up owning a f*cking cat…which I currently do right now. Now, that’s a bit misleading. Due to some circumstances too interesting to print today (Seriously. The story behind the temporary cat ownership has enough material for a week’s worth of VSB posts), I’m actually cat-sitting for the next four months; not permanent, but long enough to make me, to quote Panama Jackson a few weeks ago, “a nigga with a cat.”

That’s all I’m going to say about that.

Anyway, people of VSB.com, I’m sure I’m not alone. I know everyone’s life hasn’t followed the exact plan you thought it would, so how would you fill in your own personal “I never thought I’d…” sentence?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Seven “First World” Problems God Hates Us For Complaining About

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Don't worry. I'm sure God hates you.

While doing some work Sunday afternoon, I decided to take a short break and walk to a fair taking place a few blocks away from my place. When I got there, I noticed a station where some organic produce company was giving away free lemonade with the company’s name on the bottle. In return, you had to sign up for their emailing list.

As you may have imagined, there was a bit of a line (maybe 10 deep), but my cheap ass didn’t give a damn. Doesn’t matter if it’s a pencil eraser or a bunch of broken broomsticks being given away. I will stand in line (and fight someone) for some free shit.

Anyway, I eventually made my way to the front of the line, signed my life away, and grabbed my free bottle of organic lemonade. Nevermind the fact that I had no freakin idea what the hell organic lemonade was going to taste like. I got my free bottle and I was happy…until I took the first sip. It didn’t taste bad — it was actually surprisingly good — but  I got a little annoyed at the fact that they had the audacity to give away room temperature lemonade. It wasn’t hot or even lukewarm, but it tasted like a bottle of something that had been taken out of the cooler an hour ago.

As a walked to another station, still (slightly) annoyed that I was sipping on a bottle of not-even-really-all-that-warm lemonade, it finally hit me: I’M ANNOYED ABOUT A F*CKING FREE BOTTLE OF LEMONADE!!! A FREE BOTTLE!!! THERE ARE PEOPLE IN THIS WORLD WHO WALKED BAREFOOT OVER SEVEN MILES OF HYENA CARCASSES TODAY JUST TO EXCHANGE A BABY GOAT FOR A CUP OF MALARIA-FREE WARM WATER, AND I’M ANNOYED ABOUT A FREAKIN FREE BOTTLE OF LEMONADE THAT WASN’T AS COLD AS I WANTED IT TO BE!!!

To give myself a little credit, the annoyance isn’t really my fault. I’m an American, born and raised in a country where the vast majority of people in it don’t have to worry about things like “Will this water make my stomach explode?” and “If I fall asleep tonight, will the warlords kidnap me and force me to be a sex slave to their army of child soldiers?”

Basically, I’m a “first world” person with first world privilege and first world problems. And, along with “Having to stand in line just to get a bottle of lemonade that just didn’t happen to be very cold,” here are seven more relatively insignificant things that God probably kind of hates us for always complaining about.

1. Slow Wi-Fi

Every time you complain that it took 1.8 seconds instead of 1.3 seconds for your bullshit webpage to load, an ebola-infested elephant rapes a kitten.

2. Having too many items to choose from in the supermarket

The next time you get annoyed that there are too many different types of ranch dressing to choose from, remember that the migrant workers who picked the lettuce for the salad that you’re going to put your ranch dressing on pee on the lettuce seeds because their boss only allows them one bathroom break every 16 days.

3. Wearing condoms

“Damn you God, for giving us access to an invention that allows us to continue to have pleasurable sex while not having to worry about STDs, pregnancy, or vaginas with teeth. Damn you!!!”

4. The rain

Only in bitch-ass America do people become suicidal because of a weather occurrence that, if it happened more often in certain parts of the world, would save like a billion lives a year.

5. Dealing with cable company customer service

Yes, it truly is a f*cking pain to spend five minutes talking to a person on the phone just so they can instantaneously restore your cable so your lame ass can watch House Hunters.

6. Walking to destinations

So, lemme get this straight. You just purchased a pair of $175 sneakers that took 12 Chinese factory workers four straight 23 hour shifts to make, and you don’t want to actually walk in them because, well, it rained a couple days ago and you don’t want the nonexistent mud to graze your douchey f*cking sneakers?

Bitch.

7. The government

Yeah, I think, if given the choice between having the ability to complain about the government without having six masked men come to your house in the middle of the night and slash your Achilles tendons and not having the ability to complain about the government without having six masked men come to your house in the middle of the night and slash your Achilles tendons, I think I’ll stay in the place where all my tendons will likely stay intact. Thanks for asking, though

That’s it for me today. People of VSB, can you name any other “first world problems” that God probably hates us for complaining about?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

My Problem With Church

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An episode of “the shitty” — the drunk sleep that occurs when you go to bed while inebriated and, for whatever reason, wake up far earlier than you would under normal circumstances — last Saturday night woke me at 8:30am, an ungodly hour for an “I aint got shit to do all day” Sunday morning.

Unable to go back to sleep, I remembered that a group of 20 or so guys play pick-up basketball every Sunday morning at a nearby gym, so I got out of bed and decided to go play.

I made it there by 9:15 or so, played a few games, dunked in a game for the first time in maybe 10 months, slightly sprained my ankle while jumping around and screaming like a banshee after celebrating said dunk, and made it back home by 11.

After showering and glancing at the time after getting out of the shower, I thought a thought I hadn’t thought in (at least) a few months:

“Hmm. I think I should try to make it to church.”

I got dressed, ran out the door, and made it in time for the 11:45 service.

Now, my reasons for not attending church more often range from lazy (I just never get up early enough to go.) and logistical (I occasionally spend Sunday mornings working on various writing projects.) to practical (My favorite brunch spot stops serving food at 1:30. I usually don’t get out of church until 1:15.) and pragmatic, but the main thing limiting my appearances to one per every three months is the fact that I just don’t feel anything when I go.

I understand that everyone isn’t going to catch the Holy Ghost whenever they attend service, and I also get the fact that even in church, your personal relationship with God — not your connection to the parishioners — is what really matters.

But while I do always enjoy myself when I’m there, I never seem to actually be doing what I’m supposed to be doing. While we’re supposed to be praying, I’m thinking about how many calls and texts I’ve missed since I’ve been there. While we’re supposed to be paying attention to the word, I’m scanning the crowd to spot familiar faces (and thinking some, um “unChristian” things about some of them). While we’re supposed to be standing and singing, I’m wondering if the people behind me notice that it’s been a month since I took the suit I’m wearing to the cleaners.

This isn’t a new development, btw. Even as a child, I was never able to immerse myself into church the same way some of my classmates and family members seemed to. And yes, I realize that a good percentage of that was probably an act — many of the kids were likely just going through the motions to appease their parents and teachers — but I didn’t even care/feel enough to fake it.

Despite all of this, I’m not one of those faux intellectuals who think that they’re just too smart and too analytical to be swayed by God, church, and religion in the same way many others are. In fact, my belief in God — and yes, I do believe in God — is from an intellectual perspective.

Basically, I believe in God because the existence of Earth and the universe (and Stacey Dash) — the evidence of His existence — proves that He is real. I also understand and respect the purpose of religion and church. I’ve just never been able to cultivate the type of spiritual and emotional connection that seems to keep churchgoers “filled.”

I’m also not a church cynic. Both the church I attend when I do go to church and the pastor at that church are the embodiment of what’s good about Black churches. I give (most) churchgoers, even the more demonstrative ones, the benefit of the doubt, and I’m definitely not sitting there thinking “Look at these fake-ass motherf*ckers hooting and hollering.” Not only do I believe that they feel the way they act and say they feel, I’m envious of it.

I realize that my issues with church could just be a case of confirmation bias. I know how I’ve felt before while there, so perhaps every time I enter the building now I just assume that things are going to play out the exact same way, and I start to look for things and search for feelings to prove my point.

I discussed this issue with a friend yesterday afternoon, and she thought my inability to connect was a bit deeper than that.

“Your problem is that you expect your relationship with church and God to be easy. It’s not. You have to work at it and want it to be successful. It’s actually like any other relationship with friends or even a romantic partner. Things aren’t just going to magically work. You have to put in the work for it to work, and the basis of this effort is the love you have for your friend. You want things to work because you love them and you know your life is better with them in it. You’re not connecting with church and God the way you think you should be able to because you’re just not trying hard enough to keep a consistent dialogue. As close as I am to my best friend, if I went two years without calling her, we definitely wouldn’t be as close anymore.”

I think she’s right. Perhaps my problem with church is basically just my problem with me, and “going all in” with things. I guess it’s just up to me to decide how important it is to change that.

Anyway, people of VSB.com, can anyone relate to my struggles connecting with church and/or religion? For those who are able to make that connection, how were you able to do it?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

****ATTENTION WASHINGTON, DC: It’s that time again…THIS Saturday, Cinco De Mayo (May 5th), at Liv Nightclub (2001 11th Street NW) , it’s time for another edition of #REMINISCEDC. VSB x Shine On Me x Just Cause Productions are bringing you the hottest 90s party in the District!! It’s FREE BEFORE 11pm w/RSVP (Doors at 930pm, $10 after), OPEN BAR from 930-1030pm, and there’s NO DRESS CODE. So RSVP at reminiscedc.eventbrite.com to get in free and come party the night away at the dopest house party at the club!!! When they #reminisceDC over you…****

the contest

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while certain cataclysmic events help to provide idiots atheists with “evidence” of God’s nonexistence (“if there was really a God, how could he/she allow something like that to happen?“), the existence of the wee-wanged man (WWM) and the aesthetically belligerent woman (ABW) is all the proof anyone needs that God is real, because only a deity would have such a darkly ironic and detached sense of humor.

piety aside, when it comes to dating and/or relationships, nobody has it worse than the dainty d*cked dude and the lebron-faced lady. but, while the WWM and the ABW can each claim that they were born with 13 clubs in life’s big game of dating and mating spades, today the champ will provide a detailed breakdown in five equally important categories to find out exactly who was dealt a worse hand. Continue reading →