The terrible option of me

I must admit, a life without God has a certain appeal. No one to hold me accountable. No one to make me feel guilty. No one to tell me right and wrong.

And you probably feel the same way.

But without God, I must lay my entire destiny to chance. And when I leave things to chance, the odds are usually stacked against me. With these depressing odds, then I am forced to do something, anything, to wrest control from the random chaos that engulfs me.

So, I take the wheel and manipulate my fragile world. I begin to order my existence and to create a trustworthy environment.

Until it all falls apart.

But the question echoes. “Who is man?” Can man stop the hands of time? Can man operate out of the constraints of space? Can man work in ways that actually defy reason?

Maslow’s ultimate goal of self-actualization is the ultimate in selfishness. If I feed this monster, I care for no one else. I despise others. I never think about eternity, because ‘what you see is what you get.’

And then the sadness creeps in. That hollow, ringing sadness that haunts me. It reminds me that I am nothing but a shell — a figure of my own creation. The ache creeps up from somewhere deep within and screams out, “There is a God, and you are not Him.”

A God-based world doesn’t always make sense. But it certainly beats the Terrible Option of Me.