Stupid little Miracle

From: Debbie Mann (deborahjmann@insightbb.com)
Date: Sat Sep 13 2003 - 13:39:34 EDT

  • Next message: Jim Eisele: "Re: Logical Arguments Against God"

    My stove went out. I prayed about that as I do about most things.

    They were out of the color I wanted of the stove I wanted. The other place
    didn't carry the stove I wanted for anywhere near the price. I accepted
    another color. It arrived, they pulled out the old stove and then discovered
    the new stove was dented. I asked them to loan it to me while the one I
    wanted came in. They also gave me $20 for my trouble. I have the right one
    now. It looks much better.

    An atheist would say, "Well, why didn't God just get you the right stove
    first?"

    If he had, it wouldn't have been unusual and I wouldn't have given him any
    special attention or thanks. This way, I took the time to thank him.

    -----Original Message-----
    From: chromatech2@juno.com [mailto:chromatech2@juno.com]
    Sent: Saturday, September 13, 2003 7:18 AM
    To: deborahjmann@insightbb.com
    Subject: Re: RE : Freethinking Poetry

    Are you into history? Old literature and poetry? There's a faith in the
    end,
    in the duty of man, in the rightness that will eventually arrive.

    Yes, history of religions and some poetry....

    Why Don't He Lend a Hand?

    You say there is a God
    Above the boundless sky,
    A wise and wondrous deity
    Whose strength none can defy.
    You say that he is seated
    Upon a throne most grand,
    Millions of angels at his beck . . .
    Why don't he lend a hand?

    See how the earth is groaning,
    What countless tears are shed,
    See how the plague stalks forward
    And brave and sweet lie dead.
    Homes burn and hearts are breaking,
    Grim murder stains the land;
    You say he is omnipotent . . .
    Why don't he lend a hand?

    Behold, injustice conquers;
    Pain curses every hour;
    The good and true and beautiful
    Are trampled like the flower.
    You say he is our father,
    That what he wills doth stand;
    If he is thus almighty
    Why don't he lend a hand?

    What is this monarch doing
    Upon his golden throne,
    To right the wrong stupendous,
    Give joy instead of moan?
    With his resistless majesty,
    Each force at his command,
    Each law his own creation . . .
    Why don't he lend a hand?

    Alas! I fear he's sleeping,
    Or is himself a dream,
    A bubble on thought's ocean,
    Our fancy's fading gleam.
    We look in vain to find him
    Upon his throne so grand,
    Then turn your vision earthward . . .
    'Tis we must lend a hand.

    'Tis we must grasp the lightning,
    And plow the rugged soil;
    'Tis we must beat back suffering,
    And plague and murder foil;
    'Tis we must build the paradise
    And bravely right the wrong;
    The god above us faileth,
    The god within is strong.

    by Samuel P. Putnam (1838-1896)

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Religion"
    by Matt Martinek

    You search for answers to life and death,
    With hope and faith to what suits you best.
    Oblivious to truth in your own ending life,
    You escape to the fiction, away from the strife.

    Those who are weak use prayer to survive;
    They can't take the hurt given through life.
    They go to the church or temple to pray,
    Then when they leave it seems like a beautiful day.

    Instead of praying and asking for forgiveness,
    Take the initiative and embrace your lack of innocence.
    Use your time not to kneel to the priest,
    But use it instead to perform great feats.

    If you have done wrong, do best to make right
    And take responsibility for your errors in life.
    Why lie to yourself and waste your time,
    When you can live and love 'till the day you die?

    I speak of this because I know it too well,
    For I spent many a year buying what they had to sell.
    Too many religions, which one is right?
    You choose to believe, but I choose to fight!

    Some look ahead to life after death,
    And some embrace the now, with every last breath.
    To everyone who reads this, ponder it well,
    For you will not be going to heaven nor hell.

    Think About It!

    John Schwartz



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