How do you feel about (dare I say it) God?
If I were forced to label my beliefs, I’d deem myself a “liberal Christian” with some hesitation.
I believe in good and truth and virtue and heros and the right to choose your own path in life. I believe in justice and heaven and angels and the power of the earth, the spirit of Mother Nature and that you can feel blessings on the wind if you close your eyes and breathe deep at just the right moment.
I don’t know about Hell although sometimes it’s very easy to see evil, frightening though it is. It’s too easy to turn away instead of look at the horrors of our world. I’m afraid that on my judgement day, when I lay out in front of me all that I’ve done, only then will I see that it wasn’t enough. That I turned my back too many times on mankind, on violence, on children in need.
Some people say no god would allow these horrors to take place, some would say their god gave us the freedom of choice.
Leila asked me about the sun this morning. Where it was, what it’s made of, why it can burn you. Later, I thought of the incomprehensible size of the universe. We are but a mere speck and we sit here, burning our sky and watching oil as it vomits into the ocean and it’s all about Me! Me! Me!. The human mind can’t fathom things that are larger than the span of our eyes. It’s why we don’t believe and it’s why we can’t make up our minds about what we believe and it’s why we obsessively comsume dogma. If the universe did explode, all those years ago, and one little rock in the middle of eternity spawned the entirety our of world, how could there not be anyone else out there? And how could it have been chance?
Steve loves post-apoclyptic movies, but I turn from them. They scare me. The loneliness, the ash, the corruption and horror that has always overtaken mankind. It’s too much to think about, it’s too much to bear. Part of me can’t help but hope that the inherent kindness that I believe exists in people will grown stronger and emerge.
Does it exist, though?
Two nights ago, I looked at pictures of oil drenched birds and dead fish. Tears sprung to my eyes at the picture of a river of oil through the ocean. There’s a feeling of desperation, isn’t there? It’s why we look away. Because this kind of fear mixed with the knowledge that no one knows what to do is enough to make you scream. And then go fill up your car before your commute.
Is oil evil? Are the people who harvest it? What about the ignorant consumer? Where do we draw the lines?
Leila asked me recently if I knew everything. No baby, I responded, Not even close to everything.
That’s ok Mommy, she told me, you’re still just learning.
Aren’t we all.