God Is Not Great
There's a book making the rounds, written by some guy named Christopher Hitchins and it is titled "God is Not Great."
Well, let me tell you I've been a tad disilusioned lately and more than a little upset, but that guy is a moron.
This morning I headed to the hospital - still haven't slept past five in about six weeks. Whatever. I was down, real down, over the course of the last few days, so much so that people are starting to worry about me. Well, I'm fine, and you know why? Christopher Hitchins, do you have any ideas?
Because I found comfort in my faith. When I arrived at Jeff's bedside his eyes were wide open. I talked to him about baseball, Bruce, and the family. We were in the room alone, all lights off, sharing the best we could. I told him that we were there for him, and that he was getting better every day. I smoothed things out, and made sure that he was comfortable. I held his hand and stroked his cheek and told him that I'm much better looking then him, that I was always a better shot in basketball, and that he sucked at golf. He was really trying to work a smile.
And then the light came through his blinds as the day began. His eyes remained open and I told him that the sun was coming up bright and strong. I told him that God had granted us another day, and it just sort of hit me. I locked eyes with the photo of Jesus above his bed, and a lot of the sadness melted away as I held onto those eyes. Without much thought I said an Our Father, out loud as Jeff listened and his alert eyes darted across my face.
And I exhaled loudly, and I felt better. For just a little while, I felt better. And in that prayer I thought of the line Thy Will Be Done and being upset with God wasn't much of an option anymore.
I feel bad for people who don't have faith in something. I feel bad for a man who writes a book about how God is a punishing God. I haven't read the man's book. I have no desire to. I want to believe. I need to believe. I find comfort in believing.
So stick that in your ass Hitchins.
Well, let me tell you I've been a tad disilusioned lately and more than a little upset, but that guy is a moron.
This morning I headed to the hospital - still haven't slept past five in about six weeks. Whatever. I was down, real down, over the course of the last few days, so much so that people are starting to worry about me. Well, I'm fine, and you know why? Christopher Hitchins, do you have any ideas?
Because I found comfort in my faith. When I arrived at Jeff's bedside his eyes were wide open. I talked to him about baseball, Bruce, and the family. We were in the room alone, all lights off, sharing the best we could. I told him that we were there for him, and that he was getting better every day. I smoothed things out, and made sure that he was comfortable. I held his hand and stroked his cheek and told him that I'm much better looking then him, that I was always a better shot in basketball, and that he sucked at golf. He was really trying to work a smile.
And then the light came through his blinds as the day began. His eyes remained open and I told him that the sun was coming up bright and strong. I told him that God had granted us another day, and it just sort of hit me. I locked eyes with the photo of Jesus above his bed, and a lot of the sadness melted away as I held onto those eyes. Without much thought I said an Our Father, out loud as Jeff listened and his alert eyes darted across my face.
And I exhaled loudly, and I felt better. For just a little while, I felt better. And in that prayer I thought of the line Thy Will Be Done and being upset with God wasn't much of an option anymore.
I feel bad for people who don't have faith in something. I feel bad for a man who writes a book about how God is a punishing God. I haven't read the man's book. I have no desire to. I want to believe. I need to believe. I find comfort in believing.
So stick that in your ass Hitchins.
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