Okay, before you pass any judgement, hear me out. First of all, many who know me are probably shocked to see me writing about God. Some would consider me the farthest thing from being a “Jesus freak” (not that there’s anything wrong with that). I also know the title of this post could position me as an atheist, which also is not the case. In fact, when I first heard someone say that God doesn’t care about my happiness I was floored. I didn’t believe or understand it myself until my own experience provided clarity.
After my son was born, I was asked if I wanted more children. “Sure,” I responded. “Good,” I was told, “because having one is kind of selfish.”
The person proceeded to tell me how sad it would be for a child to grow up not knowing what it would be like to have a sibling. How unfortunate it would be for that child to feel the sole pressure of his parent’s expectations. How cruel it would be for that child to carry the burden of caring for aging parents alone. After listening to all of that, I was glad I answered yes.
Unfortunately, that conversation happened before…
I found a little of my nerve in a grocery store parking lot recently. It surfaced after I saw a big, black dog locked inside a car on an 80-some degree day. Now, I say I found “a little” nerve because in hindsight I should have taken more drastic action to rescue the animal. I should have asked the store to page “the ignorant lady who locked her dog in the hot car with license plate XXXX”. Or, I should have called the police. But as it was, I merely pulled out my notepad and stuck a note of reprehension under her car’s back windshield.