So, God is where exactly?

This may seem ridiculous to a lot of people, but I’m not really at the point of caring right now. Today I had to put my cat, Rain, to sleep. It’s the first time I’ve ever had to do that and I’m not taking it very lightly.

So, the Bible says that when two or more people come together in agreement in prayer, God will answer, right? That’s what I’ve been told my whole life and in multiple churches. Maybe I haven’t actually read those words in the Bible, but I’d like to think that the fact that more than one preacher has said that would be a confirmation of the truth.

While my mother may believe that I’ve given up on God long ago, I hadn’t. I had actually just prayed last night asking God for forgiveness and to take me back. Cause, in case you’re not a Christian, that’s what we do. God loves us no matter what we do and he’ll take us back no matter what we do as long as we’re sincere in asking for forgiveness. And I was sincere. I tried hard today to stay positive, to be nice to everyone, and be very Christ-like.

So, when my cat was laying at the vet’s office getting ready to die, of course I started praying. I started begging. I was crying and feeling like an idiot because I was crying over a cat which I loved. Even now, as I’m typing this up, I expect to look down at the ground and see him looking up at me and to hear his tiny little squeaky meow (definitely going through puberty). My mother comes in, and I know she’s praying too. Okay. There’s two people praying. The things is “two or more”, right?

So, God, why is my cat dead now?

I don’t want to give up on God. I like being a Christian. But it’s times like these, when we have bad things happening to us every time we turn around, it makes it a little bit hard to believe in Him.

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For those of you who care, when I came into the house this afternoon Rain was laying in our living room and he full-out meowed at me (which he never does). So, I picked him up and loved him a bit and when I set him back down he just plopped. He couldn’t use his back legs and he was very lethargic. He didn’t fight when I prodded at him and messed with his paws. He didn’t fight when wrapped him up in a towel and set him in the truck. He didn’t fight when we were at the vet’s office, so I knew something big was up.

The vet said that, after x-rays, it seemed likely that he had heart disease which had caused a clot in an artery. The vet said that he couldn’t be 100% sure, but there wasn’t any spinal damage (to cause paralysis) and it wasn’t what happens when cats are poisoned. The only way to know was to have an ultrasound done, which he couldn’t do there. So, we’d have to pay him money for the office visit and x-rays, take Rain to a 24-hour animal hospital, pay another $70 office visit fee and roughly $200 for the ultrasound.

Why is it cheaper for you to kill your animal rather than find out what’s wrong with it and have it fixed? Just goes to show that I’m an idiot for thinking even for a minute that it isn’t all about the money.

Is it all about the money?

Okay. So, the question of the day (or possibly week/month/rest of my life) is this: Is it really all about the money? Today I went driving to find a house that my family is going to for a meeting on Sunday. I was just curious about what kind of house it was because I already knew that the houses in that area were really nice and I wanted to…be prepared.

As I’m driving and looking around at all of these two and three story houses with their nicely manicured lawns (why the heck are they called “manicured lawns”?) and the driveways lined with BMWs and Cadillacs, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit down. But then, almost as soon as I became sad, I asked myself, “Are these people truly happy?” 

I know there’s the timeless saying “money doesn’t buy happiness” but…does it? I know a lot of the stress endured by my family, friends, and myself could easily be taken care of with a couple of zeros added onto the end of their monthly salary. 

And then I can’t help but ask myself how the hell they got there. Did they spend four or eight years (possibly longer) in college to get there? How much debt is laying under their Jimmy Choo shoes? Do they sit up at night figuring and calculating how to make their money stretch? Cause I know that’s how it is at our house. Maybe they do the same thing…just with bigger numbers.

In the end, I haven’t found an answer yet. I’d like to think that there are more important things in this life than money, but in a world that is driven by dollar signs, it’s a little hard to be sure.