Originally posted by Bone75
God is in the heart of everyone whether you want to admit it or not. You can all come on here professing to be atheists until you're blue in the
face, but when your child is struggling to breathe or a crackhead has a shotgun barrel pressed to the back of your head, its in those moments that
you're believers... we all are.
Have you been there and done that? I have. There was a crackhead who grabbed my best friend, had a gun to her head. The ONLY thing I was thinking was
if I can get him to point the gun at me, if I get shot, I have a better chance of surviving than she did, and that I needed to draw his attention to
me, and get that gun away from her.
No thoughts of god in my head at all at the time, not even when I was looking down the barrel of said gun when my vague thoughts became reality, and
he'd tossed her away, and pistol whipped me, and then was demanding the money neither of us had.
Now I will admit that after he grabbed the bag of chinese food I was carrying and ran away, having been convinced that we didn't have any money, I
did say thank god. BUT when the defecation was hitting the oscillating blades, there was no prayer in my mind towards some omnipotent being in the sky
somewhere, just the sure thought that I needed to make sure my friend didn't get hurt, because she was tiny and frail and would probably die,
where\as even though I too am tiny, I'm quite a bit more sturdy than she.
You may pray in a situation like that, but speak for yourself. I don't. Maybe after the fact, I breathe a word of thanks, but it's a reflex I'm
sure, because thank goodness, or thank the spaghetti monster or even thank the light doesn't roll off the tongue as easily as thank god, when that's
what you're raised with.
And that's not the first or even second time I've had a gun pointed on me. It's not the first emergency situation I have been involved in. Ever had
a child die in your arms? I have. Sept 2nd 1998. His name was Joseuz Torres, we called him Chelo, and I breathed for him in the streets while his
heart beat out his blood onto the ground, as his lasts breathes rattled in his throat. I didn't pray for God to do something, I hoped the ambulance
to get there faster, for the cop standing around with her thumb up her rear like she was stuck on stupid to HELP me, while I knelt on broken glass
wearing a bra, because I was using my shirt to try to plug the hole in the Chelo's chest.
So don't tell ME what I would have done, because like I said, I have been there and I have done that, and I didn't call on God. YOU call on him and
more power to you if you're answered. I prefer to rely on something a bit more tangible.
And if you want to say maybe if I would have prayed, Chelo would have lived... Well, if that's the game your god plays, count me out.