Finding God in a Prosthetic Leg
My roommate, an expert in world religions, and I discussed God upon the rooftop of the apartment complex which acts as our patio--an uncommon JVC conversation indeed. She told me that 300,000,000 was merely an esitmate of the accepted number of Gods in the Hindu tradition. For Hindus God is in everything--or perhaps more appripriately, God is everything. "Even a martini glass?" I asked. "If that is how you have conceived God in your mind, then yes, even a martini glass."
Well I'm adding one more to the list and it is not a martini glass.
Uncle Joe, as we're fond of calling him, and I were taking Julio across town in an attempt to secure a wheelchair. Julio has a malfunctioning prosthetic right leg. Julio lost his hearing over a decade ago. Julio has trouble with his eyes, which probably causes the migraines. Julio contemplated suicide.
And Julio is a mystic.
God spoke to him on the railroad tracks in his darkest moments, asking him not to worry about his deaf ears that make his expertise in auto mechanics null and void, nor his vanquished right leg which makes man's most basic form of transportation nonexistant. Julio listened and no longer fears death; yet no longer entertains thoughts of suicide. "I understand now," said Julio, "that I can lose every limb on my body, and even die. It does not matter."
Ghandi would have been proud.
So do I believe in God? About this no one is ever certain. I am certain, however, that on this day existential angst was in retreat because I believe in whatever crossed Julio's mind that moment on the railroad tracks that saved his life. And I am putting my money on a prosthetic leg.
My roommate, an expert in world religions, and I discussed God upon the rooftop of the apartment complex which acts as our patio--an uncommon JVC conversation indeed. She told me that 300,000,000 was merely an esitmate of the accepted number of Gods in the Hindu tradition. For Hindus God is in everything--or perhaps more appripriately, God is everything. "Even a martini glass?" I asked. "If that is how you have conceived God in your mind, then yes, even a martini glass."
Well I'm adding one more to the list and it is not a martini glass.
Uncle Joe, as we're fond of calling him, and I were taking Julio across town in an attempt to secure a wheelchair. Julio has a malfunctioning prosthetic right leg. Julio lost his hearing over a decade ago. Julio has trouble with his eyes, which probably causes the migraines. Julio contemplated suicide.
And Julio is a mystic.
God spoke to him on the railroad tracks in his darkest moments, asking him not to worry about his deaf ears that make his expertise in auto mechanics null and void, nor his vanquished right leg which makes man's most basic form of transportation nonexistant. Julio listened and no longer fears death; yet no longer entertains thoughts of suicide. "I understand now," said Julio, "that I can lose every limb on my body, and even die. It does not matter."
Ghandi would have been proud.
So do I believe in God? About this no one is ever certain. I am certain, however, that on this day existential angst was in retreat because I believe in whatever crossed Julio's mind that moment on the railroad tracks that saved his life. And I am putting my money on a prosthetic leg.
posted by Ryan at 2:39 PM
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