I'm finding that I'm less and less able to handle hearing about or even thinking about senseless death. I read about some of the people tortured and killed as heretics during the inquisition and I was nearly in tears. Then I just read a news report about a Pakistani man that killed his own daughters while his wife watched, in order to preserve his family's "honor".
Theists can at least imagine these people in heaven, or sleeping awaiting a resurrection. To me though, they're dead. They had one shot at life, and it ended for no good reason at all. A four-year-old girl, killed over an incomprehensibly warped concept of honor.
I've noticed that as I walk from work, wrapped in my coat, squinting against the cold, I think about the homeless people in my city. How many will die this winter, alone and cold and miserable? And why? I live in a country of such wealth -- *I* have such comparative wealth -- and yet there are people that are freezing to death for want of a coat?
It isn't death. It's senseless death. It's eating me up, I can feel it behind my eyes and in my chest.
What do you do when you get this way? I've always been aware of this stuff, why is it eating me up now?
Anybody got a god I can borrow? ;-)
Dave