I got robbed tonight.
OK, well I didn't get robbed, but the hotel where I work as a night auditor got robbed (although they did take all of my money too).
The details are insignificant. I am very angry right now, but that too is not important.
So why am I writing this? I don't want sympathy, and it's not a very good catharsis. But what do I write about, and how is this related?
My coworker is from Somalia, and, as one could probably easily guess, he is a Muslim. Actually, as the robbers approached us, my coworker and I were discussing religion - why he has so much faith and why I have none. After the ordeal, after the police and manager had left, and Aziz and I were once again alone and left to discuss our experience, he brought up his god. Allah had saved us. Do I now have faith? Do I now believe in this benevelent god who so graciously spared my life?
My answer is simple: I look at this in a completely different way...
...a god who loves me wouldn't have allowed this to happen.
My jaw might be broken. Hell, my nose may be broken. My reason however, is stronger than ever.