Something will happen someday in my life; something dire that will cause me such pain and torture and anguish I will crumble to pieces.
And to be able to walk or even stand again, I will have to call on a power greater than my own.
“And then you’ll know God truly exists when he comes to your aid. And you will return to him, I know it!”
More than thrice I have been told this by Christian acquaintances.
Strange that I, the atheist, have never wished any such suffering on a believer, just so that they may lose faith in their god.
And yet in all this, steering clear of cruel and hurtful thoughts, I am the evil one.
Stranger still how I’ve never been told that a day will come, when I will be so happy and successful and fulfilled that will have no doubt of god’s being.
The hidden face of god it seems, is seen only to eyes closed tight in grief but not to those wrinkled in pure toe-curling happiness.
And it makes perfect sense now that I think of it. A god is only as good as the hell he designs. Because if you can find heaven within yourself and will settle for no other, what use to you is the promise of milk and honey and harps for all eternity?