Their Choice. My Choice.
“Do you need help?”
“No, thank you. God will save me.”
“Hi Sir, do you need help?”
“No, thank you. God will save me.”
“Are you sure you don’t need help?”
“No, thank you. God will save me.”
“God, why didn’t you save me?”
“I sent you a boat, you big dummy.”
As I see the flood of comments from the church community raising prayers and expressing God’s greatness, I can’t help but think of the irony. God is good, yes, He is. He gave mankind the reasoning skills needed to create a vaccine to save millions of lives from a deadly virus. What could be greater? As the deniers and anti-vaxxers lay withered and weak, gasping for air, I don’t hear them say, “this was my choice.” But I can’t forget the words they once spoke. “My choice, my choice.”
“My choice to infect others.”
“My choice to pick and choose facts.”
“My choice to play politics and ideologies.”
Staring into the warm Gulf, I wonder, where is my compassion? Surely, even if it is their choice, should I not still look out for their safety? It takes…
