The Tapeworm Gallery: Wounds from a Friend

Bible.org's Women's Leadership Team welcomes Salma Gundi as a regular Engage blogger with part 2 of a series begun when Sandra Glahn published part 1 of Salma's essay as a guest blogger here: The Tapeworm Gallery: Dense Fog Advisory. 

OK, I stepped out of line. Never meant to offend you. The Boss-Dragon spat fire upon me for picking on Bible-Belters. (The breath on that creature—reminds me of weeks-old curry in a baby's diaper.)

I get you. You came from a good Christian home. Your daddy even served as deacon. Women at church respect you. You inhabit the epicenter of goodness. And that's all that matters.

I get desperate. You don't exactly give me a foothold. Maybe just once you could watch an R-rated movie. Then I could give you flashbacks of hot (albeit unrealistic) illicit Hollywood sex—or get you to say a swear word or two. At least have a glass of Prosecco with dinner. Give me something to work with.

Now your neighbor—interesting specimen. I'd rather hang around her four o'clock-in-the-afternoon-dry-martini-drinking, excessive-eye-makeup-wearing, cleavage-baring, adulterous middle-aged foolishness. Oh, the fun I'd have with her. She and her foul-mouthed, pot-smoking, strip-clubbing husband could keep me entertained for years.   

But you're better than them. You pray every morning, you follow your husband's lead, and you dress like a 1960's librarian. But for whatever reason The Boss wants me to keep tabs on Leviticus-memorizing, Daniel-fasting, boring you. Go figure.

Anyway, I just want you to know I'm on your side. And unlike that control-freak tyrant in the sky, I don't expect you to obey my every command like some mindless sheep. You're too smart for that. My mission: help you get the desires of your heart. And if that includes staying in your cozy Cultural Christian cocoon—nothing wrong with that.

He told you to spread his news to all nations to the ends of the earth. Sound extreme? Well, we both know the Bible is full of hyperbole—just a history book mixed with some poems and cutesy coffee-mug one-liners. Who really knows what it all means? Only the guy in the sky can interpret it.

Think about it. Does he really expect your husband to quit his VP Finance job and move your family to a Rajasthani desert, only to have perpetual diarrhea from dining on yellow vomit-looking mush? Sick people can't help anyone. Besides, ten minutes around those smelly, oily, hairy savages would melt anyone's nose hairs. Trust me—I had assignment there. Intriguing place full of voodoo (all credit to The Boss Man). But the stench!

So keep your jobs and intestines intact. Besides, Christian has finally settled into high school life; Grace made cheerleading this year. Why disrupt (and endanger) their lives? As for your Bible study ladies—they need their leader. 

So don't feel guilty for wanting to stay put. Remember what Pastor Mike said—you each have a unique calling. Not everyone belongs on the mission field. 

All better now? Good. Then I'll leave you to your complacency.

You know, that bit about going and making disciples to the ends of the earth? Used to terrify me. Not anymore. You wouldn't do it anyway. You run from other peoples within your own country, just like your daddy and his daddy did. Besides, why venture off to other countries when you live in the best one?

As for not wanting to offend you, I meant that. Because your feeling offended could cause your pitiful little heart to change. And we wouldn't want that.

Laters,

Tapeworm