When I think of the grand scheme of things, I can only think that the scheme is grander than anything I can think of - that's all I'm saying.
So why is it that people like myself who choose to ask questions about the creation of humanity are ranked among the same popularity level as murderers? I'm a pacifist - not a barbarian.
Yet I cannot count one friend who I can reach out to for a discussion (not debate) on the topic. I seem to be surrounded by those who share very opposing viewpoints and I'm really not interested in spending my time going over the same disputes I've heard thousands of times before. To each his/her own.
Other than my husband, the world outside my door seems to be blood thirsty for us evil savages. We're the enemy and I sometimes imagine that this is what it would feel like to go to sleep worrying about waking up to lynch mob on your doorstep and a brick through your window. I live in the South, which people seem intent on reminding me is a different region from where I grew up, where people have different views and treat people differently.
I say to those proud regionalists, go travel a little more. After a 12-hour car trip north of here, people aren't going to find an uncivilized colony of mutants. We are not that different.
I'm sure that there are people who would say that God decided that I should not have friends because I don't really know if I believe in him (I think I'm supposed to capitalize that pronoun) and therefore don't deserve any. But there are also children who don't "deserve" cancer and women who don't "deserve" to be raped and men who don't "deserve" to die serving their country. I'm not convinced on who decides what anyone really deserves.
I can't speak for the rest of the zombies around here but I make my own choices - and pay the price for them. If I wanted something to change in my life, I would change it - and that includes the number of friends. However, the quality of such is a more difficult switch.
A few weeks ago, my mother-in-law brought over a little bag of used books for my daughter. Sandwiched between a book on Barbie's Easter egg hunt and one about the Care-Bears, I found a children's Bible. Despite knowing that we are not religious people, she made an effort to include this in her donation. My daughter is not yet two and my son is still not born so I'm not in a rush to start converting anyone to Christianity. I'm still working on getting my daughter to use a potty. So when we do discuss it, we'll be talking about all the religions and my children will make their own choices about what they want to believe.
Growing up in multi-denominational household was confusing. I didn't realize it was confusing until later in life but it led me to ask more questions - which in my opinion, is always a good thing.
My mother worked for a Jewish family and we lived with them. Although very culturally Jewish, the whole God thing wasn't a part of our dinner time discussion. The father, an ivy-league graduate with a medical degree, probably knew more than my mom about a lot of things but I didn't know it when I asked her about the collection of monkey figurines on the mantle in his bedroom.
She became disgusted and shook her head. "He believes we all came from monkeys," she said. "Terrible. He's crazy."
That was all she said. There was no explanation of evolution or mention of a guy named, Darwin. And so that was what I thought because I trusted my mom. There was something wrong with him for thinking that humans came from those really hairy animals that ate bananas. It wasn't until my own investigations that I learned the other side and formed my own conclusions. And my mom's opinions began to hold less weight. In fact, I began to doubt a lot of what she said and if you can doubt your mom - mostly everyone else if fair game.