On Beauty in Foxholes

A few weeks ago, I was asked how my disabilities affect my spiritual life. I have had trouble since then coming up with enough literary meat for a post. However, because of the horror in Newtown, I think a lot of us who do not consider ourselves prayerful people have looked up and asked “why?” My grandpa commonly repeated the old cliche,“There is no atheist in a foxhole.”  It has never rung more true to me than in the last couple of days. Our nation has been forced, once again, by a deranged young man into a proverbial foxhole and we’re all praying together that something will make this violent trend stop.

I think many people in the country will see the capability to end this violence in God. Some will see promise in Buddha, some in Jesus and some in Mohammad. Goodness should be looked for wherever people can find it; I am glad religion is helpful. Without it, the world would probably slump into a permanent state of unwavering depression.   

I do not want to offend anyone but my disability has in my opinion, made organized religion, almost unnecessary for me. I know that there are more good forces than bad forces in this world. I have spent countless moments in my life helpless. The number of people who have gone out of their way to help me and improve my day is immensely greater than the number of creeps who have attempted to use my condition to their advantage.  There were dozens of heroes in Newtown on Friday, protecting those innocent babies, and one sick bastard with a weapon. That ratio does not surprise me because I have seen it my entire life. For every annoyed onlooker who rolls their eyes while I struggle up the stairs, there are five who want to carry me. For every person has bullied me, there has been someone who couldn’t fathom their motivation.  Human kind is largely kind. When humans are evil, I pray. I pray not because of any specific credence but because I want to be able to see the joy in the world soon. When I send those prayers, it usually doesn’t take to long for me to get a text from a friend, or see a neighbor assisting another neighbor. Evil is the rarity, and good is the rule. Where was whatever being I pray to on Friday? It certainly not in Connecticut, but I believe that because most of us are loving and loveable, we can overcome this and we can see beauty again. That faith in human beauty, I hold onto like some hold onto the existence of God.