Unbelievable

Every part of me wishes there was a God so that there would truly be a reason for all this pain. My pain. Others’ pain. Your pain.

Why couldn’t they have made the stories seem real? Why couldn’t they have made God a good person? One who loves the gays and the addicts and the sex workers. And punishes the malicious and black-hearted souls that cause harm and wish chaos.

I wish the bible was more believable so that I could recite the verses and feel better. Feel at peace. Feel that the world is explained and understood, whether or not by me. And I could bow my head and pray a prayer and believe it will be answered.

But I know no one has the world figured out. And that most of our pain, my pain and yours, is devoid of reason or explanation. Which only sharpens the sting.

The only explainable pain in a just world created and cared for by a god that most religions paint to be the ideal moral soul and the final word on righteousness is

the slight pinch of a girl’s first ear-piercing

the gasping for air as a loved one embraces you too tightly

the rare moment when pain and beauty are intertwined as a fresh mother labors her child into the world.