On death
Today a high school friend of mine died of breast cancer. She was 30, I think. Close to my age. She leaves a husband and three boys, and friends and family who watched her chronicle the end of her life on Facebook.
I wasn’t very close to her — we lost touch after high school – so I hesitate to say something that will upset anyone. Yet I’ve been sitting here for an hour since I found out, trying to remember how I’ve rationalized others’ deaths in order to understand this one. But that’s what’s bothering me: rationalizing is like putting round pegs in square holes and thinking that as long as the pegs don’t fall out, they must fit; in short, it often makes sense just to the person twisting logic to fit the situation.
Maybe it’s just me, but every time a friend or relative dies, the choice between faith and reason becomes all the more clear. And I just don’t think I can choose faith anymore. I quit believing in miracles a long time ago, and now I don’t really see the point of loving a god who does nothing.