Apr 03

God no longer exists, if he ever did.

I haven’t written for myself in far too long. I tried to write Notes on Facebook, rather than long form on a site, but that didn’t work. I tried to write for other publications, and that is a lot of fun, but rarely, does it give you the opportunity to say what you really feel.

So I’m here, and I have a lot to say.

Over the past 4 months, my father has been confined to a hospital. Locally, then in Columbus, then at a “specialty care” hospital, then back to the other hospital, and back and forth, several times. It all started with a massive case of pancreatitis, and a gall bladder that had shot stones into his liver, and kidneys, and the ensuing infection wrecked his lungs and a couple of other organs.

He’s bedridden.
He’s trached.
He’s confused at times.

This has been his existence.

All the thoughts and prayers in the world haven’t changed this. All the prayer chains, and prayer requests, and pastors,and “knee-mail” haven’t changed that. He’s sick. He’s in the hospital. Sure, he has had times when he was looking like he was getting better. Since the week before Christmas, it’s felt like a two steps forward, and one step backward, in succession, to the point where the plan was that he was going to be going to a Nursing Home in the next week or so, with a “plan” to come home, eventually.

Well, Today, again, my dad turned septic, his condition worsened, his abdomen is filling with fluid, and they don’t know what the cause is. They are just telling my mom that he is “really sick”.

Well no fucking shit.

The entire time that my mom is keeping the family posted, the Christians in my family are bleating out: Thoughts and prayers! I’m praying right now! Rick loves God, and God loves Rick!, This is just a test!


Let’s look at this rationally, and only focus on the case of my father, and not the larger world view, and how that totally debunks the idea of a loving God who takes care of his people. Lets just talk about my dad. The former pastor. The mentor of a current pastor. The man who has devoted his existence to God, and has placed his life in God’s hands for the past 18 1/2 years, while dealing with some very significant health issues.

God is not going to help my dad get out of that bed.
God is not going to magically heal him, now.
God is not going to do anything.


Because modern medicine has kept my dad alive for the past few months, while they try and let his body heal, so that he is healthy enough to undergo surgery to remove AT LEAST the Gall Bladder, MAYBE the pancreas.
Modern medicine has kept him breathing while his lungs were almost useless.
Modern Medicine has kept his kidneys functioning, even when they were producing something that looked closer to a Stout in coloration than urine.
Modern Medicine has kept him nourished, while he has been unable to swallow.

God, has had a good couple of months to decide that he is going to come in, and heal is faithful servant.

And yet, my father persists to lay in a bed, unable to walk. Unable to eat. Unable to completely breath on his own. Unable to stand up and take a piss, and certainly incapable of taking a shit, and wiping his own ass.

There is no miracle coming, that isn’t the product of a hail fucking Mary by a team of very talented surgeons who are currently working him over, trying to make sure that he survives.


For those who don’t know, I’ve been an atheist for the better part of 15 years. I haven’t given God the time of Day since my father’s failed brain surgery. It became apparent (to me) that there was no God in the aftermath of that failed surgery. Maybe I’m wrong, but I have stopped caring about a God who plays favorites, and picks and chooses what he is going to heal people from.

Since that failed Brain Surgery, “God” has been given credit for saving my Dad’s life a few times.
But my Dad still has 3 inoperable masses in his head.
“God” was given credit for my dad making it to Christmas, and then New Years, and then his birthday.
But my Dad still lies in a hospital bed, incapable of taking care of his own bodily functions, with a Pancreas and Gall Bladder that are LITERALLY TRYING TO FUCKING KILL HIM, and 3 inoperable masses in his brain.

There is no God.
Maybe a deity existed at some point.
Probably not, but maybe.

I choose to believe that there is no evidence of a deity, and that man created a deity in it’s own image to better understand the big scary world that they lived in, and the concepts that we lacked the skills to comprehend.

I’m certainly not going to wait for him to raise my dad up off that hospital bed now.
And you shouldn’t either.