Faith

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I’m an atheist.

At least for the next 10 minutes or so, then when my anger subsides I am back to being a Christian. I have a broken heart and the sadness and emptiness I feel is at times overwhelming.

I recently lost my cat. SweetCheeks. If you are not a cat person or animal person or pet person then stop reading as you cannot understand this. 2011 started out very much like 2010. Last year, on New Year’s weekend, I learned my dog Sassy had terminal cancer. For six weeks, she was loved and cared for and when she ate, victory was felt, and when she didn’t, helplessness rolled in.

On Feb. 8, 2010, I made one of the most difficult decisions in my life to have her put to sleep. My parents had always made the decision prior to this, but I’m an adult now and she was my dog.

On New Year’s weekend 2011, I learned SweetCheeks had terminal cancer. For six weeks, she was loved and cared for and when she ate victory was felt, and when she didn’t, helplessness rolled in.

On Feb. 8, 2011, I endured one of the most difficult 20 minutes of my life. I was on my way out and decided to check on SweetCheeks one last time and see if she’d eat. I knew her time was approaching but I had taken her to the vet earlier that Tuesday grasping at straws hoping for one more day with her. The injection she was given should have kicked in by now. But, honestly, earlier that day, I felt perhaps the time was now.

I brought her food and she ignored it. It was time, I realized. Tomorrow. The injection had no affect. She was cold too. Is it too cold in the closet? I put a space heater on. Minutes later I checked on her again and she was on her side gasping for breath. It was seven minutes to 7 p.m. I can’t let her go through this any longer. I frantically called the vet who was still open for seven more minutes. He said to bring her in.

My wife wasn’t home; she was at an appointment. I couldn’t leave without her. But, she should be home any minute. I quickly picked up SweetCheeks who was showing little life and through tears, I let her two sisters say goodbye as well as two other cats she lived with. I called my wife repeatedly but it went to voice mail. My anger began to simmer.

I almost destroyed my computer as it took an eternity to start. I needed to find the center where my wife was and call them and tell her to come home. I placed SweetCheeks on the floor in my office and she laid there gasping for breath. Finally, I found the name of the place, the number and then I called. I told them to have my wife call home immediately.

I picked up SweetCheeks from the floor. She was practically lifeless. I didn’t want her suffering anymore. At 7:08 the phone rang. I ran to my desk with SweetCheeks and put her down. I picked up the phone. I rambled telling my wife to come home now then I felt something against my legs. SweetCheeks was sliding off my desk and only my legs kept her from falling to the ground. There was no fight in her. I quickly put the phone down and grabbed SweetCheeks. There was no strength in her.

I placed her back on the floor. She couldn’t even lift her head. It was like a newborn in my arms. I had to hold her little head up or it would flop to the side. I quickly ran to the backdoor and made sure everything was locked so I could just quickly leave the house. I came back with mere moments to spare.

I knelt down and consoled SweetCheeks. Petting her to make her feel at ease. Her right front leg stiffened. No, I thought. Perhaps I even cried out. She’s leaving me. Or starting to convulse. Her neck arched back and I watched her die. Right in front of me. I screamed out. She was gone. 7:14 p.m.

I’ve seen many dogs and cats put to sleep thanks to a previous career of mine. But never have I seen one die naturally.

The "What If’s" came first.

What if she slipped completely off my desk?
What if I had timed it wrong and been checking on the locks when she died?
What if I had stayed in denial and pretended she would be OK until I came back from where I was leaving for the night?
What if I was homeless and this was my cat who kept me warm and sane?

I don’t understand that last what if, but it crossed my mind.

The anger came next as what happened began to sink in over the course of a few days. I was unable to grasp my mind around what happened. My anger at God began to surface. My anger at the fallen world and why we have to live here. Then I doubted God. I even got angry for being created with a heart for animals. I know people who can hit a dog with their car and do little more than shrug their shoulders. I collapsed in grief in the bathroom at my work once after I killed a stray cat that was sleeping in the wheel well of my car.

Emptiness and sadness followed after SweetCheeks death. I’ve been through this before. Several times. It never gets easier. But I’ve never had to live through the last 20 minutes of SweetCheeks life.

And, perhaps you're saying, “It’s just a cat!” Exactly. I’ve yet to live through the decline and death of someone close to me. I’ve never had a brother or son die suddenly on the basketball court. My aunt died two years ago after a decades long battle with breast cancer. I got the play-by-play from my dad, but I wasn’t there. I know people who would happily give their right arm to endure what I had to go through if it meant the tragedy they’ve endured never happened.

Pondering the pain I have felt, the likely pain I have yet to feel and constantly pray I won’t have to feel, leads me to the conclusion that there really is no such thing as an atheist. So far, every one I have met or read about is simply a God hater.

Talk to one some time. Eventually, you learn they grew up in an overly strict religious home or someone in the church harmed them or they’ve already experienced enough pain for a lifetime and their life is far from over. A God hater is no atheist. A God hater is simply someone pissed off at God. Declaring their atheism is a way to get back at God.

Take the atheists’ personal Jesus, Richard Dawkins. I watched him during an interview once. He let it slip (or perhaps not) that he had a very religious upbringing. It all made sense. He probably had a Bible beating dad or something to that effect that made him hate God. So now he makes his living and a pretty good one too, at writing books declaring there is no proof for the existence of God, therefore there is no God. But Dawkins hatred of God is proof of God’s existence.

The drummer of the greatest rock band to ever play is, as far as I can tell, a God hater. Oh, the lyrics he writes are clearly atheistic. But he simply hates God. And who can blame him really? His wife and daughter were taken from him less than a year apart. I’d hate God too. But, now remarried, he did admit to sending out prayers and supplications when his daughter was born.

Hating God is not atheism. In fact, it’s the opposite. Hating God is affirming God.

In the days and weeks after losing SweetCheeks in such dramatic and emotional fashion, I, in my anger, questioned God’s existence. I came to understand why the God haters proclaim themselves as atheists. Honestly, it makes you feel better. If I hated God as much as Dawkins does, writing books about being an “atheist” and becoming a millionaire through my hate, disguised as atheism, is certainly one way to feel better.

And if wrote lyrics for a rock band and I hated God for what he allowed to happen, you bet I’d read God hating books like “God is Not Great” (whose author went to Christian boarding schools. Gee, I wonder if he hates God?) and then write lyrics questioning the existence of God.

But denying God or hating God does not make God not exist. How can you hate something that does not exist? Hating God is believing in God! That’s the folly of atheism.

And when I proclaimed myself an atheist I simply proved the existence of God because I was mad and angry. I got back at God for allowing pain and suffering by saying I no longer believe and how can God allow one of His followers so much pain.

I felt God’s presence once in my life. It was strange and yes goes back to the death of a pet. But the awareness of God’s presence ironically was felt months later. When I watched my childhood dog, a Golden retriever named Max, slowly drift to sleep at the veterinary’s office I was in a state of numbness. My 14-year companion was gone.

Several months later, many months later in fact, as I often reflected back on that moment in my life, I suddenly felt this profound sense of peace and comfort. It was so startling I was taken aback. But the peace was so real I readily would have relived that moment at the vet’s office. That’s the only way I can describe it. That surreal sense of peace slowly disintegrated over the ensuing months but I will never forget it. I can only explain it as being in such an emotional state that I was able to feel and sense the presence of Jesus weeping along side of me. Romans says all of God’s creation aches for His return. I expect this also means all of God’s creation will be with Him in eternity.

As an atheist for a few moments a profound sense of helplessness and fear envelops me. If this is all there is, then how does one go on living? What’s the point really?

The Bible makes the most sense to me. As a parent I can see now how God is our parent. I punish my kid when appropriate. I let bad things happen to him but sometimes I intervene, just as God has. Can you imagine the state of this country or even the world without one Christian in attendance?

How can so many people be so blind?

In light of this statement, I again question God. But really, what else can God do? The last time he revealed Himself, he was staked to a tree! If I was God, I’d say, “To Hell with them.”

But he doesn’t. Why not? That’s not what he wants. I can no longer ask the questions why. I understand pain and suffering. It saddens me when people question why there is such a lot of pain on the earth or why some are blessed and some are cursed or why some live behind iron gates while others only see the worst.

The fact is God is wondering why His creation allows it. We’ve been given all the tools necessary to live peacefully, but we don’t. Do we want freewill or a dictating God? When do we want God to intervene? When do we not want Him to intervene? Why did God bother with creation if He knew we’d fail? Then why do parents have children knowing they will eventually disappoint?

How can humans with our brains the size of two fists and who lived primitively, for the most part, until a hundred or so years ago, possibly grasp or understand who/what/where/when/why God? You know, the One who CREATED everything. If humans have children knowing it’s not going to be a walk in the park all the time, then why can’t God?

Hating God is not the answer. But it is the answer to atheism.

The night I lost SweetCheeks I was going to see another lyricist who I don’t believe is a God hater. If I may take from his song entitled “When the Angels Sing”:

At last we meet again dear God…
The funerals are nicer when we know you’re there…
Sometimes I try so hard to understand the things you do
Who am I to question you when it all comes down?

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