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It’s not like I don’t have emotions. I am not a sociopath. I feel things. But…I am disconnected from the things I feel. It is as though at some point during my life my emotions became separated from me, torn from my mind like a barely cognizant child from his mother’s arms. They speak to me still, but in the muffled whispers of a foreign tongue locked in the room next door…and the walls are very thick: I can just barely make out every other word, and the rest are blanks that I try to fill in as best I can. At times this has led to my acting a part which seems most appropriate to play, such as when I want to laugh but cry instead—because who laughs at a funeral?
Maybe you can relate. Or perhaps I am mistaken, that I truly am a soulless thing and these muddled phrases spoken by my soul are merely the last echoes of something long since dead: the pains of a phantom limb. At times these echoes seem to bounce around the walls of my mind until the sound becomes deafening. As paralyzing and frustrating as these times can be, I much prefer them to the silence that follows soon afterward—having one’s mind shutdown is a little less than a suicide; and having ‘killed’ myself many times, I can say definitively to anyone who looks to the cold, blank stare of death for solace that anything is better than nothing.
Skeptics question how a loving God could send his children to hell, but what I have come to realize is that people send themselves to hell, God can only sit and watch as we exercise free will—the one thing He dares not take away from us; the one thing we are not yet ready to give up.
Rules set down by God are only guidelines—because just as there are things which will injure the body, there are things which can injure the soul. The body, however, can heal itself—I wonder if the same can be said of the soul? Was Lazarus a dead body with a living soul (which I have never seen), or a living body with a dead soul (which I have seen too many times)? Did Jesus resurrect a broken body or a fallen spirit? And which is the more impressive feat? For one to walk on water one would need to transcend the very nature of water—one would have to find the sublimity of life.
There are those that will only ever see water as water—and for those I have only pity, as one pity’s a deaf-mute who will never hear the high notes of a bittersweet symphony. Many times people have asked for signs from God, but rarely do they make the effort to actually look for them. God is not testing your faith by hiding these signs from you—because there is no God to have faith in. We, collectively, are “God”: the omnipotent being that sees and knows all—but for now we must be kept divided, babbling at one another from separate rooms, with very thick walls between us.
One of my favourite biblical tales is that of Adam and Eve in Eden, and the forbidden fruit of the Tree of Conscience—the knowledge of good and evil—what could be more detrimental to an all-knowing being than the idea that some things should not be known? How does a fallen angel return to heaven? How does a snake stop hiding in the weeds? The first idea that occurs to most is to eliminate the concept of heaven, and pull out every last weed—but when a knife has been plunged deep into your heart, the last thing you want to do is pull it out; yet that is the common reaction…perhaps the time has come to try something uncommon? At my next funeral, I beg you laugh.
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