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I caught myself thinking about God. I've been wondering if there's anything after this misery we call life. Can this possibly be it? Why are we all here? What could be the reason we all exist?
I've even been tempted to get a psychic reading. This is what grief does to a person. It challenges one's faith and beliefs and makes a person grasp at straws.
Some might say I don't have beliefs, but that's not true. I believe there is no God. I don't believe in the fairytale we call heaven. I don't believe in psychics, ghosts, angels or demons. I can't bring myself to justify a higher being. I truly believe it's all a bunch of tall tales.Tales that were established many years ago as a form of guilt, power and values and morals for a peaceful society.
Someone died this weekend. Someone Kevin and I knew. I hoped for one brief moment that if there really is a God and even a heaven that she might be with him. But, as hard as I try, I find it to be impossible.
If this wonderful, peaceful heaven exists, why do we have to live life in pain here first then die before we can go there? What sense does that really make? Why do young children die and people commit suicide and wonderful people suffer from cancer if there is an ever-loving God "watching over" us?
I don't know the answers and I could be dead wrong (no pun intended). But, I guess I'll never know. Or, maybe once I do know it won't matter anymore. What I know now is that my husband died and I'm stuck on this stinkin' planet to suffer. I'm sad. I cry. I think all too much about that peaceful resting place six feet below with my name on it.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn