Trust, and a little OCD

I probably shouldn’t be blogging today: The first snowflakes are drifting down, the Vikings won yesterday and Britney Spear’s scowl continues to make going through the checkout counter an irritating experience.

But I’m committed to writing each day this month (thanks a lot, Isabel). Oh well. Let’s hope my self-censoring radar will kick in before I become inappropriately transparent.

I think one of the benefits to having good people in our lives is their ability to act as mirrors. Without Annie, I would probably consider myself to be a normal and well-rounded guy. I would think that it’s perfectly sane to refuse to drink milk more than three days old, that everyone buys journals in bulk without writing in them and that reading for eight hours straight is a good way to improve my social life. (Who says imaginary friends can’t make you happy? Try telling Calvin that Hobbes doesn’t make him happy.)

Without my wife, I would also probably think that buying a new/used Bible every other week is a reasonable use of my pocket cash.

I used to buy lots of Bibles. Every translation I could get my hands on. NIV, The Message, NKJV, NLT, RSV, with and without cheese. I won’t bore you with a list of them all.

I’m not very “religious,” at least I don’t think so. I pop into a traditional church service once or twice a year, I have no idea what to do when Lent rolls around and haven’t the foggiest which side goes first when making the Sign of the Cross. I just try to mimic Jesus, like a little brother following around big brother, annoying the crap out of him (no offense, Luke).

I’m sure I would have annoyed Jesus. “Umm, Tom, it’s cool you want to hang out with me and all, but I’m heading out into the desert for some alone time.”

Anyway, I’m getting off track here. I knew I should have just posted more pictures today.

Over the years I think I’ve figured this Bible-buying compulsion thing out. It comes down to a matter of trust.

See, I just don’t trust many “Christians.” That goes for Bible publishing “Christians” as well. For instance, it’s hard for me to read the English Standard Version translation because one of the professors on the translation team is friends with an organization for which I have a strong dislike. I struggle to read the New Living Translation because Pat Roberson likes it. (Sorry, Pat, I know everyone uses you as a whipping boy, but you bring it on yourself.)

Yeah, I know, like I’m Mr. Perfect. Shhh… I’m bearing my soul here.

I also don’t trust advertising. Probably because I’m in the industry. I know how jaded and skeptical — and manipulative — advertising is prone to be. Walk down the religion section of any bookstore and look at all the brightly colored Bibles. Try not to think of the team of graphic artists and sales associates and marketing personnel and MBA’s who helped put that Bible on the shelf. I used to tear the covers off of my Bibles because it bugged me so much.

Alright, so that last part is pretty weird. And I knew that before Annie told me so. But, hey, you’re the one who’s still reading about my warped sense of trust.

I suppose that I am still trying to find a Bible that is untainted by flawed people, although I realize that it’s a futile search. It’s just so hard to learn to trust, you know? My wife’s helping me in that department. So are Silvi and Ian.

Stupid winter. Making me look like a freak in front of everyone.