Posted by:
NormaRae
(
)
Date: April 23, 2011 11:32AM
I've had the feeling for awhile that if Hitchens had to go, as he's made it clear that we all are on the road to death--he's just accelerated a bit, that he's kind of glad (for lack of a better word) that he went with cancer, knowing his death is iminent, to make a point that there ARE Athiests in foxholes.
His point that his trust is better placed in advanced medical science than on superstition reminded me of one of my very favorite posts ever on RFM. I archived it and I'm going to repost it just because it's so good. The poster hasn't been on RFM in years so I will leave off the name, but since it was in the public domain, I hope it's ok to repost. I guess admins will pull it if it's not. Enjoy:
ATHIESTS IN FOXHOLES
"Last December, I stepped into my own emotional foxhole.
My wife was pregnant with twins, and she went into premature labor (4 months premature) in November, 2002. She was hospitalized for a month, while the doctors medically and surgically fended off delivery. For a month, I slept on a cot in her hospital room, only a few steps away from her, in case there was an emergency. During the first week of December, that emergency came, the labor kicked back in, and within a few hours, the twins were born.
My son weighed 2 lbs., 3 oz.
And my daughter weighed 1 lb., 14 oz.
Both of them nearly died.
They were in the intensive care unit for four months. My daughter had stomach surgery, eye surgery, and brain surgery (twice). It cost over a million dollars to keep them alive. And, even now, there is still a possibility that my daughter will have learning disabilities and even cerebral palsy.
On the day they were born, I prayed to God pleading with him to protect their lives. But, since I knew that there was a good possibility that they would die, I pleaded with him even more so to protect my testimony. I knew that if the kids died, I might become bitter and resentful and fall away from the Mormon church. And I was afraid of that happening.
And I wanted to be right with God. I wanted to be in harmony with his plan. I thought "Maybe it's in God's plan for my kids to die. Maybe there's some higher purpose." And I tried to meditate and pray to determine what that purpose might be. I tried to come closer to God, to align myself with his will, so that I could be an instrument in fulfilling his purpose. And so I legitimately tried to determine why God would want my kids to be sick. Maybe I would grow spiritually from the experience. Maybe I would learn patience and trust and dependence on the Lord. Maybe I would learn about my own physical limitations, strengthening my ability to be humble.
And so I tried to learn all those things. Maybe if I was a receptive student to the lesson God was trying to teach me, I would be able to stave off any further injury to my kids. But when the news got worse for them, rather than better, when my daughter had to go in for her second brain surgery, it was obvious that God was not staying his hand.
And then something in my mind switched gears. Maybe God was not trying to teach me something. Maybe there was no grand lesson in all of this. Maybe my kids had problems because that kind of stuff just happens sometimes. Wow. What a concept for me. The pressure was off when I realized that I was not in the midst of some cosmic pop-quiz of my personal character. God was not testing me, because there is no God behind the scenes.
To me, that was a comforting thought. Suddenly, I didn't need to worry about my own culpability. I wasn't responsible, through my sins and transgressions, for the physical problems my kids were experiencing. And when I met with the neurologists and the gastroenterologists, and I listened to their explanations of the biochemistry and the anatomical mechanics of their procedures, I understood what they were trying to accomplish. After hundreds of years of medical science, these doctors have the ability to facilitate healing and development where it would otherwise be impossible. They are healers, in a way that I have never seen demonstrated by anyone who speaks in the name of Jesus. And, in the presence of these doctors and their knowledge, I HAD HOPE.
Of course, many people have told me that I was in fact being tested by God, and that I failed his test. But then why did I feel that surge of hope? Why did I feel peace relying on mortal man rather than swaddled in the comforting arms of the Lord? Why did I feel nothing but despair in my prayers and nothing but optimism when I stopped kneeling before God?
Don't tell me there are no atheists in foxholes.
I've been there.
And the doctors in the Newborn ICU were like my atheist clergy. They spread a message of hope and of peace. And they do it without pointing to some Jesus in the sky. They do it with their hands. And they do it with their minds. Theirs is a message of realism, pragmatism, self-reliance, community, and compassion. For some of us, that message is perfect, even without a God."