Why not candy, like a normal person? Or liquor or swearing or Facebook, something ordinary and reasonable? Well, I considered that route, but no. This year, I picked God.
The whole religion thing is a quandary for me. I go back and forth, round and round. One day, oh, there’s a God, all right; He’s trying to kill me. The next, nah, there’s no God. The day after that, who cares, where’re the Cheetos? And so it goes.
I can’t reach a firm, lasting decision and I’ve no solid conviction either way. I’m not a believer. I’m not a non-believer. I’m not even a wait-and-seer. What I am, I suppose, is a ditherer. And I blame Santa Claus. As well as the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, the Pillsbury Dough Boy, Mary Poppins, the whole bunch. They were all phonies.
Santa was simply the tip of the iceberg. When he was pantsed as a fraud and an impostor, he took the others down with him. They fell like dominoes — leaving me shattered and bereft at six. To this day, I have trust issues. Big ones. Paranoia, that’s my constant companion. I don’t believe a word anyone says and I see ulterior motives everywhere.
God, if He exists (and I’m not saying He does, but I allow for the possibility here for the sake of argument), was an unintended, but inevitable victim. His very existence was brought into question as a direct result of those early delusions. Remember The Wizard of Oz? They finally, finally make it to Emerald City and what happens? “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.”
Yeah, I’m not setting myself up for that again.
But what if I’m wrong, you know? I could be, I’ve been mistaken before. Then what? If there is a God, ipso facto there’s a Hell, too. And as much as I love a warm climate, Hell sounds decidedly unappealing. Lakes of fire and pitchforks are no substitutes for sandy beaches and rolling tides. Besides, if you don’t like the accommodations you can’t just pack up and move somewhere nicer. There are no upgrades in Hell. Are there? No, I’m sure not.
See the predicament? Am I overthinking? I do that sometimes, but just as often, and equally troubling, is my propensity to underthink. So, to be safe, I’m holding off on a final decision; I want to see how the Lent thing goes first. Feel free to check back on April 5th.
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