MIGHTY MISS MAYA

WHAT CAN I SAY?

We all know that life has its distinct stages:  young  adulthood, where life is your personal oyster;  middle-age, when you , realize it’s a clam, certainly not an oyster; maturity, when you can afford oysters, but the doctors won’t let you eat them; old age, when you can’t remember why you liked them in the first place.  Well, whatever stage I am in right now, it fosters penitence, extreme lachrymose behavior, and inquisitiveness.

As to penitence: I have done some bad stuff in my day, but I have been trying hard  to make amends. 

My inquisitiveness lately has mainly involved religion.  All my life I have called myself an agnostic.  As I see it now, there are two kinds of agnostic:  (1) the kind that says “I don’t know” simply because he/she regards themselves as just too damned busy to worry about it; (2) the type that realizes it is an important question, has mulled it over thoroughly,  and simply can't be sure.  Up until the last year or so I definitely was a type 1 agnostic, but now I am beginning to qualify as type 2.

Lachrymose behavior is harder to explain.  Until recently, when confronted with sad stories I would shrug, mutter something like “bummer”, and turn the page.  Now, however, I am more likely to weep.  Especially if little children are involved.  Which brings me to why I wrote this blog in the first place.

Be sure to click on this web address.  You may have to endure an ad at first, but persevere; it is worth it.  If you can watch this clip and not cry, you are a hard-ass indeed.

https://abcnews.go.com/Health/year-cerebral-palsy-celebrates-taking-independent-steps/story?id=56370753

So, I ask myself, if there is a loving and benevolent God, why do awful things happen to innocent people?  I know this is a childish sort of question to those few (those very few) of you who are well-grounded in religious philosophy, but to me it’s profound.  Some of you doubtless will reply: “God’s plan is not our plan”.  My rejoinder would be “Well, if He is so benevolent, why did He equip me with this feeble little intellect, one that allows me to witness pain and to some extent participate in it, but not understand why it is necessary?

I think my inquisitiveness has a long way to go.