shaking the foundations of my faith
My life is changing in big ways right now. I'm leaving my job on Friday, and will be leaving my adopted city of Minneapolis for the drizzly city of Seattle at the end of September. And all of this for the love of a woman.
Which leads me to the 'faith' part.
I have long required that god give me some type of empirical evidence of his existence before I believe. No "mysterious ways," proxies sent from heaven to die for my sins, or images of the holy mother baked into pastries will do. I want evidence, and I want it delivered in person. No exceptions.
Then I met this woman. She's perfect in every conceivable way. She's beautiful, smart, and witty. There's always a hint of mischief in her eyes, and she can talk on all manner of high-minded and serious topics without achieving any level of actual seriousness, all the while relishing a can of cheap domestic beer. And she likes my cats.
It's as if someone made her with me in mind.
That we even met is a miracle in itself. Remove any single event from a long line of circumstances going back to about 1972 and I never meet this woman. I was stood up by a date to a friend's wedding in April. She was in town from Seattle for the wedding. I didn't know anybody who wasn't in the wedding party, so I parked myself by the bar and enjoyed several glasses of wine. She introduced herself to me at the bar, and we never looked back. Had my date not flaked out on me, I wouldn't be writing this. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Seriously. I haven't done the math, but I'd bet it's a statistical impossibility that we met.
And that makes me wonder.
I will never meet a person like this again, I'm certain of that. That a random series of events managed to bring us together doesn't do it justice. Things this perfect can't happen by accident. I can't believe that two people so suited for one another can be separated by 1,600 miles of circumstances and just randomly bump into each other and fall in love. There must be some kind of design . . . some kind of interested party pulling strings and pushing buttons . . .
I guess there was The Kaiser and John, who told me repeatedly that I would fall madly in love with this woman if only I could meet her. And Alissa, who probably invited me to the wedding with the expressed purpose of introducing us. And the open bar, which the two of us naturally gravitated toward at the wedding. I'm thinking the bar had the biggest hand in it.
So, nice try, god, but it's not good enough. I still need a personal appearance, preferrably with two forms of government issued photo I.D.
Which leads me to the 'faith' part.
I have long required that god give me some type of empirical evidence of his existence before I believe. No "mysterious ways," proxies sent from heaven to die for my sins, or images of the holy mother baked into pastries will do. I want evidence, and I want it delivered in person. No exceptions.
Then I met this woman. She's perfect in every conceivable way. She's beautiful, smart, and witty. There's always a hint of mischief in her eyes, and she can talk on all manner of high-minded and serious topics without achieving any level of actual seriousness, all the while relishing a can of cheap domestic beer. And she likes my cats.
It's as if someone made her with me in mind.
That we even met is a miracle in itself. Remove any single event from a long line of circumstances going back to about 1972 and I never meet this woman. I was stood up by a date to a friend's wedding in April. She was in town from Seattle for the wedding. I didn't know anybody who wasn't in the wedding party, so I parked myself by the bar and enjoyed several glasses of wine. She introduced herself to me at the bar, and we never looked back. Had my date not flaked out on me, I wouldn't be writing this. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Seriously. I haven't done the math, but I'd bet it's a statistical impossibility that we met.
And that makes me wonder.
I will never meet a person like this again, I'm certain of that. That a random series of events managed to bring us together doesn't do it justice. Things this perfect can't happen by accident. I can't believe that two people so suited for one another can be separated by 1,600 miles of circumstances and just randomly bump into each other and fall in love. There must be some kind of design . . . some kind of interested party pulling strings and pushing buttons . . .
I guess there was The Kaiser and John, who told me repeatedly that I would fall madly in love with this woman if only I could meet her. And Alissa, who probably invited me to the wedding with the expressed purpose of introducing us. And the open bar, which the two of us naturally gravitated toward at the wedding. I'm thinking the bar had the biggest hand in it.
So, nice try, god, but it's not good enough. I still need a personal appearance, preferrably with two forms of government issued photo I.D.
posted by poverty at 9:36 AM
1 Comments:
You're close, my unseen friend. You're closer than you think.
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