Are you there God? It's me, Jill.

Someone posted something today on Facebook that basically asked "where was your god when this and anything bad happens?"  and the general feeling of this person is that prayer is a waste of time that is better spent on getting off your backside and "doing something."  I like this person.  I respect them and think they're pretty cool.  However, it triggered a need to respond and so I'm going to do it on my blog.  I don't like doing the passive/vague response thing, but I also felt I have the right to write and wanted to do so without offending them or disrespecting their belief system.

Below is my "response" to their question (rhetorical as it may have been).

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My faith (which is decidedly different than "religion") leads me to believe that God doesn't *make* bad things happen.  We are not puppets on a string for Him to control.  One of the greatest gifts given to us is our freedom of choice.  You choose to not believe in God.  I choose to believe.  We both choose to advocate for innocents (whether it's animals, kids, people) and do good in our own little part of this world.  Choices.  There are others who choose to create chaos, terror, death and destruction.  Others choose to waste the abundance of blessings in their life.  Still others choose to persecute those who don't believe the same as they do.  All of these choices stem from that one gift - the ability to act for ourselves and not be acted upon - aka freedom to choose our path.  A Zeus-like "God" would be more in line of not allowing bad things to happen, or preventing them. 

We can also choose to fix and improve the world surrounding us and make our world better - regardless of whether we believe in God, a Benevolent Higher Power, Budah, the Flying Spaghetti Monster or nothing.  They do not have to be mutually exclusive.  How is the fact that I choose to believe in God, and choose to pray Him, diametrically opposed to choosing to make the world a better place?  For those who don't want to be judged for non-belief, I see a lot of memes out there shoving non-belief in my face and belittling my belief.  I'm sure there are just as many where opinions are reversed and that saddens me too.  It would be nice if we could all just "get along" and regardless of our belief systems just "do good."  I'm also saddened that there are wing-nuts out there that will say this (and other tragedies) are punishment for something.  I don't believe that at all.

I actually Googled "Why does God let bad things happen?" and found a several good sites with good commentary.  Someone else was able to put into words things I have struggled to understand and explain:

"God did not create evil and suffering. Now, it’s true that he did create the potential for evil to enter the world, because that was the only way to create the potential for genuine goodness and love. But it was human beings, in our free will, who brought that potential evil into reality.

Some people ask, 'Couldn’t God have foreseen all of this?' And no doubt he did. But look at it this way: many of you are parents. Even before you had children, couldn’t you foresee that there was the very real possibility they may suffer disappointment or pain or heartache in life, or that they might even hurt you and walk away from you? Of course — but you still had kids. Why? Because you knew there was also the potential for tremendous joy and deep love and great meaning."

Some may choose to say this is all some kind of rationalization for those who believe.  Maybe it is.  The point is that I *do* choose to believe.  And like many have pointed out in the wake of this latest tragedy "look for the helpers", "the good outweighs the bad",  and "there are more good guys than bad guys in this world population."  I do my best to not belittle others' beliefs.  I do my best to be a good person and to improve my little corner of the world. I try to be one of those "good guys".  I also believe that there is a Higher Power ... a Master Designer ... and I choose to call Him God. 

As far frustration over Americans being self-centered and only being concerned with what happens "to us", I get that.  I felt that same way after 9-11. I was there and I felt that initial kick in the gut.  I still have a copy of the Village Voice's front page from the day after with a picture of the Twin Towers on fire & the simple headline "The Bastards!" And yet, I thought how arrogant it was that we responded with such outrage considering that daily life in many other places was full of unexpected tragedy at every turn of the corner.  But, I also understood - it had never happened to us.  We were "sheltered" - much like many of our children are.  *These things* simply don't happen to the USA.  But they did (and had) - both from outside forces and internal (OK City bombing? The other attack on the World Trade Center?).  Just nothing had happened before on such a huge scale where so many lives were lost and affected.  Of course there was going to be shock and outrage just as there was shock and outrage over Aurora ... and Sandy Hook... and Columbine.  And Boston.

Whenever something confounds our understanding we look for answers ... and we look for comfort. For some, they work through those feelings by "doing" and that is welcomed and necessary.  For many others, prayer *is* a way of "doing", and it also provides comfort simply because we "let go and let God".  It's a way to reach out to those we want to help when we can't physically "reach out" and comfort them (or ourselves).  How that is a bad thing - I don't know.  It harms no one.  If you don't believe, don't pray - but please don't shame those of us who do.

loveTOOmuch

On March 22, 2013 my nephew - Connor - fell into a firepit in his backyard.  A freak accident that included a bed of coals, a misstep, lost balance, and a fall.  The result was that he suffered third degree burns on his right arm and hip (roughly 10% of his body surface) and a few second degree burns as well.  This kid is simply amazing.  He's gritted through pain, maintained his "go hard or go home" attitude, and remains the sweet boy we all know him to be.  But that's not what this post is about ... it's just the prelude.

One night, after a rather tough day, Connor and his dad (my brother) were saying their prayers.  Afterward, my brother noticed that Connor was crying a little bit.  He asked him "what's wrong bud?"  Connor replied "nothing, I just love you too much."  Here was this little boy, lying in a hospital bed after enduring pain more intense than many of us will ever experience ... and he's thinking about his Dad.  His dad signed off on that post with "loveTOOmuch" which started me pondering.  Can we ever love too much?

I know that there are cases where love can be warped into something ugly and in those cases I am sure it *is* possible to "love" too much.  But that isn't really love.  It's obsession.  It's possibly co-dependence.  It's ... well it's something other than pure love.  The kind of love a son has for his father and family and for others.

It reminds me of when Connor was younger ... possibly 4 or 5 years old.  I had just started getting involved with dog rescue and found myself bringing home a scruffy looking white dog named Barney.  That story has been told about how Barney came to live with my mom, but the reason he stayed is indirectly related to Connor.  Mom used the excuse that "the kids" (Connor and his younger sister Kendall) would enjoy having a dog at her house to play with when they came to visit.  I knew that secretly she had fallen in love with Barney like every other person who met him did.  So Barney stayed and became Mom's first rescue dog.

Not long after that I found myself in a situation where my two dogs were in quarantine for 10 days and my house felt too empty and quiet.  I decided to foster two dogs and naively believed I could find them both homes before my two got out of "the joint."  One found a home, but the other didn't.  I asked Mom if Dot could stay with her while I looked for a forever home for her.  She agreed (albeit a bit reluctantly).  Connor came to stay with her that weekend.  He asked why Nee-Nee had Dot.  I told him because I had rescued her from an animal shelter and I was looking for a new home for her.  Connor asked why Dot was in a shelter.  I told him that I wasn't sure but probably because she didn't have a good home where people loved her and took care of her.  He asked why she couldn't stay at the shelter (I could sense that this line of questioning was going down a not-so-happy-path at that moment).  I told him that shelters don't always have enough room for all of the animals that people don't want anymore.  I could see the look on his face as he tried to process why someone wouldn't want their dog anymore.  Then he asked what happens to the dogs that don't get rescued.  Oh boy.  Connor is the kind of kid you can't placate.  You have to play it straight with him.  So I told him that sometimes shelters have to put really sick dogs, or dogs who are hurt badly to sleep.  That they give them a shot that makes them fall asleep and not hurt anymore and sometimes they have to do that when that don't have enough room.  He simply said "oh."  That is Connor.  He asks, you answer, he says "oh" and then he ponders.  He didn't say anymore after that.

The next day, Mom couldn't find Connor.  She looked around the house and finally found him under the bed in the spare room .... sobbing and with Dot.  She finally coaxed him out and begged him to tell her what was wrong.  He hiccuped his way through saying "Nee-Nee, I just LOVE Dot!  Why would someone want to kill her?"  She explained that noone wanted to kill Dot.  That Ti-Ti (that's me) had rescued Dot out of the shelter so that wouldn't happen to her and to make room for another dog so they would stay alive too.  And then she called me and told me that Dot would be staying.  So, Mom's second rescue dog - Dot - has Connor and his big heart to thank for her home today.

Most recently, Connor's compassion showed up again as he passed the room of his neighbor in ICU and teared up a bit.  Who knows what was going through his mind, but I know there was empathy in his heart.  That's love too.

Connor is a rough and tumble kid.  He plays every sport he can.  He rides a dirt bike (or his motorcycle as he prefers to call it).  He's all boy.  And he also has a sweet and kind spirit.  He's compassionate.  He's kind.  He's a thinker.  He's just a neat kid.  And he's been an inspiration during this current ordeal.  Here is a kid that has TOO much love.  I wanted a way to visually represent that phrase and to find a way for all of the people who have shown him such support to show they are on Team Connor and rooting for him.  So of course I decided there needed to be a shirt for that. :)

I found a site called CustomInk.com and when going through their artwork, one just jumped out at me.  When your love (that you have and that's given too you) gets to be TOO much ... you pass it on.  You share that love with those who might not have enough.  Maybe it's a person.  Maybe it's a rescue dog.  Maybe it's a friend ... or a stranger.  The point is that if you have TOO much, you give some of that extra away - pass it on.  If each of us gave a little of our TOO much love I think the world would be a much better place.

So I picked this image to represent that:

Then I used words that I associate with Connor and with the word "love" and designed this:

And in that blank space ... the following floats over it all.

I'm proud of the overall result, not because I made it, but because I think it's a good visual of what my nephew has inspired me to do.

loveTOOmuch

PS - if you want to follow Connor's progress, go to http://on.fb.me/WTtZsK