Pieces of God
My co-worker, we'll call her Ali, is a very ardent atheist. She and I talk quite often, and I think she forgets that I am very much not an atheist, I think because I don't fit her image of an "ardent believer"-- likely, in that I'm not always quoting the Bible, not always talking to her about Jesus, and am, in her words, "very intelligent." We'll skip the part where I lament her unfortunate, very common, and very wrong stereotypes, and move on to the point of this post.
Over the weekend, she bought and watched the DVD's of the Sci-Fi channel's Lost Room. She came over to my cube this morning, to ask if I'd seen it and what I'd though. I'd seen a little--the Deputy had TiVOed it when it was on, so I'd caught bits and pieces. I remember Deputy being a bit peeved that there wasn't really an ending. Ali spoke of how she found the storyline engaging, and all the different factions, one which wanted to get rid of all the "objects" (these were objects with very powerful, random powers). Another that thought that if all the objects were assembled, it would either make God or open communication to God, and others who simply wanted the objects for personal power.
Ali was glad that there wasn't an ending, especially that it wasn't "that religious one". Ali, like most atheists I've met, has an aversion to anything that hints at religious themes. It's why she didn't like the Matrix. Too much religion. Again, I'll skip the ruminations on athistic insecurity of belief, that anything that hints at spirituality or religion makes them squirm, and continue with the story.
"Imagine," she continued "little pieces of God floating around the world. . ."
I blinked, unable to process a response as my mind whirled through Easter Monday thoughts, my life, my experiences. I finally cleared my throat.
"Apparently," I replied "You haven't lived my life." I think my expression was wry. "I live in the Twilight Zone. Stuff like that happens to me all the time."
Pieces of God? Ha! That's nothing compared to the weird-ass world I've seen. If only it was just pieces of God floating around. . .
And, reminded yet again that I'm not at all the atheist she is, she retrated back to her cubicle, that same uneasy look in her eye. It's weird, you know. Usually, I get that look when people have seen by bookshelves. When the priest goes fumbling for the holy water and the little black book. But getting that look because I claim that my belief in a deity (never mind the specifics) is based on experience and not soap-bubbles?
Yes, it's true, I'm weird. But from what I can tell, that's not why. Just because she hasn't been paying attention to life, doesn't mean He isn't there in it.
Do ya think she'd be upset if she knew I'd been praying for her?
Shhh. It'll be our little secret.
Over the weekend, she bought and watched the DVD's of the Sci-Fi channel's Lost Room. She came over to my cube this morning, to ask if I'd seen it and what I'd though. I'd seen a little--the Deputy had TiVOed it when it was on, so I'd caught bits and pieces. I remember Deputy being a bit peeved that there wasn't really an ending. Ali spoke of how she found the storyline engaging, and all the different factions, one which wanted to get rid of all the "objects" (these were objects with very powerful, random powers). Another that thought that if all the objects were assembled, it would either make God or open communication to God, and others who simply wanted the objects for personal power.
Ali was glad that there wasn't an ending, especially that it wasn't "that religious one". Ali, like most atheists I've met, has an aversion to anything that hints at religious themes. It's why she didn't like the Matrix. Too much religion. Again, I'll skip the ruminations on athistic insecurity of belief, that anything that hints at spirituality or religion makes them squirm, and continue with the story.
"Imagine," she continued "little pieces of God floating around the world. . ."
I blinked, unable to process a response as my mind whirled through Easter Monday thoughts, my life, my experiences. I finally cleared my throat.
"Apparently," I replied "You haven't lived my life." I think my expression was wry. "I live in the Twilight Zone. Stuff like that happens to me all the time."
Pieces of God? Ha! That's nothing compared to the weird-ass world I've seen. If only it was just pieces of God floating around. . .
And, reminded yet again that I'm not at all the atheist she is, she retrated back to her cubicle, that same uneasy look in her eye. It's weird, you know. Usually, I get that look when people have seen by bookshelves. When the priest goes fumbling for the holy water and the little black book. But getting that look because I claim that my belief in a deity (never mind the specifics) is based on experience and not soap-bubbles?
Yes, it's true, I'm weird. But from what I can tell, that's not why. Just because she hasn't been paying attention to life, doesn't mean He isn't there in it.
Do ya think she'd be upset if she knew I'd been praying for her?
Shhh. It'll be our little secret.