Raccoons, rats, sharks and flat worms find their food in nature. All they have to do is find it and take it. Most of them succeed, since as far as I know those species have existed for millions of years and are still with us today. So it’s fair to say that a large number of raccoons, rats, sharks and flat worms find food everyday and are able to survive and reproduce without saying thank-you-god before each meal!

I, a human, on the other hand, am supposed to have a totally different deal. I’m the prodigal son. I’m God’s favorite creature, so favorite that he made me in his image. Don't you think this would give me a more favored position among other earthly creatures? One at the high end of the pecking order in the animal kingdom? Nope. A rat can just dive into a dumpster and gorge and skulk away happy. But I’m supposed to anoint myself in thank-yous each time before I put food in my mouth. Worms and rats don’t have to be grateful for their meals, but I, a human, God’s favorite pet, I’m supposed to lower my head and praise him each time I eat. Thank you master, yes master,…The preferred son has reverently to pronounce his gratitude to the father each time he eats - while creatures that live in sewers and give the preferred son diseases like the plague, don’t have to “behave” or be grateful for anything.

Sorry but I’m missing something here. If I’m truly his most beloved creature, why do I have to pay my respect and show my gratitude for something a rat can have for free? God appears to be a father who cares more about the neighbor’s kids, the rats, than his own kids, the humans. Oh, but I keep forgetting. I know exactly how to explain this: God works in mysterious ways!

Why did my Father create a bacterium that can kill me, his favorite creature? I mean a microscopic unicellular organism with no nervous system, no free will, and no self-awareness. It can kill me in horrible pain. Why? By the way, according to most believers I've talked to, I'm supposed to feel bad for asking such questions? I should simply resign myself to the fact that I can't figure this one out! One more, uh?

What did I do to deserve to become weaker and weaker and plagued with diseases, as I get older? Is this a way to treat your favorite son? All the parents I know want the best for their kids, but our Father in Heaven seems only preoccupied with showing us how weak, miserable, vulnerable and mortal we are. We’re supposed to love him unconditionally but all we get in return is cancer, shot knees and hip replacement, loss of vision, lower back pain – the list of human miseries is endless. Next to what God has had in store for us humans throughout the ages Les Misérables looks like an uplifting story.

I haven’t killed anybody. I haven’t robbed anybody. Frankly, I haven’t created too much disturbance for my fellow human beings. So basically all my mistakes are small stuff and look how he can punish me! With cancer, rotting bones, blindness, even worse - baldness! On top of the many joys of aging, two-thirds of mankind, roughly four billion people (that’s billion with a “b”) are not eating properly and a good one billion are living in abject poverty and they have done NOTHING! They have done nothing to deserve their fate and I have done nothing to deserve my life of relative plenty. Just pure luck. I was born in the Western Hemisphere, they were born in Bangladesh. Some of those unfortunates are twice as smart as I am and would achieve far more than I in my privileged environment - but God has decided they won’t make it. It's time for our little refrain: God works in mysterious ways!

I mentioned a bacterium with no free will or freedom. Well I don’t have freedom either. I would love to be able to stand tall on this planet, but I can’t. This is not my project. I’m not even my own project. Believers believe I’m God’s project. According to any religion you could name, He (it’s always a he) didn’t create me as a free being in control of my own destiny, belonging to myself and making my own rules. Not even close. He created me so HE could give me two choices. Heaven or Hell, and rules to follow.

I myself would give more choice to any drug-addicted kid under my responsibility in a halfway house. But what do I know?

God should be reported for child abuse. Any parent who would treat his kids the way He does would be in serious trouble in any human society.

I don’t need, I don’t want; I don’t care about such a father.

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