To Whom Much is Owed

Something has been bothering me. It bothers me because if its true, then humanity is in trouble. A trouble that could potentially be unlike any other form of trouble we have ever seen. This idea will probably anger a few, annoy a few, and maybe enlighten a few. Although I don't think I am qualified to "enlighten", maybe the idea in which I speak can and will. My goal is not to enlighten, but to figure it out as well. But for me to figure this conundrum out, then I must figure out God and everything that is ambiguous throughout the religion of Christianity must therefor be explainable, understandable, and above all thorough in its explanation.

In April, a terrible storm hit the South. This storm destroyed the lives of many and will forever be remembered throughout the Gothic South. Everyone in the states of Alabama, Mississippi, and Georgia has a story of either loss, terror, love, or gratitude at its finest. Some might even tell stories including all four.

In order for you to understand my fear or the conundrum in which I speak, I must tell my story:

3 days prior to this terrible day in Alabama, my mother called. She warned of bad weather coming our direction and said that it was like nothing the weathermen had ever seen. She told of deaths in Mississippi and future deaths in Alabama and Georgia. I ignored her. She is my Mother, she worries about me. On the 27th of April 2011, I awoke in my dorm room bed in Montevallo, Alabama to sunny skies and Tornado sirens. It wasn't raining, the wind wasn't blowing, and my afternoon job was on my mind. About 20 minutes later, still laying in bed, I received a call from my girlfriend who lives in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. Lauren lives on 15th Street. She started the conversation off with the statement, "Have you talked to your Mother today?" I was put off by the question, but nevertheless, said, "no, why?" Her voice wasn't normal in tone or cheerfulness so something was wrong. Lauren told me through the phone that day, that Guntersville, Alabama was beat up pretty bad that morning. My hometown, my summer job, and my family dwell in Guntersville, Alabama. After finishing the conversation, I tried throughout the course of the day to get in contact with my family. I didn't until 3 or 4 in the afternoon. They were all ok. While trying to get into contact with my family, I stayed in contact with Lauren. The weather was steadily getting worse and word of bad weather heading toward Tuscaloosa was getting out. While Lauren and I were talking, she said, "Baby, I'me scared." I took that as I needed to drive to Tuscaloosa and be with her for the remainder of the evening since she was alone. It only takes an hour and fifteen minutes to get to her apartment. I drive it frequently. I proceeded to put on my shoes and walk down the stairs towards the front entrance of Napier dorm. On the way out, I ran into two of my friends who asked me where I was going. I told them Tuscaloosa and they both immediately said, "No, your not. The weather is getting bad and you're not going." I listened and walked back up to my room. After telling Lauren that I wasn't coming, we continued to text for an hour until she sent a message that read, "Baby, I'me scared. It's getting bad." I replied, "Damnit, get in the closet or F****N bathroom. Quit being a punk" (That is my term of playful endearment for her). I didn't hear from her afterwards. I tried and tried to call. Stories of death on 15th street and destroyed apartment buildings flooded my Facebook and phone. "There is nothing left," a friend told me. "Wendy's is gone and so is Mike and Ed's." Her neighbor was the red headed Wendy herself and Mike and Ed's was across the street. After about 4 hours, she calls me. She was alive. Her car wasn't so lucky and neither was the twisted boat thrown in the parking lot from the lake across the street (a quarter of a mile away). Tuscaloosa was destroyed and hundreds lost their lives.

I have told this story over and over again and it's not different or like any other story I have heard in return. A kind lady looked at me and said, "God saved ya'll that day. Be thankful." She smiled and walked away. It was at this moment that this idea came to me: If God saved us that day and therefore we need to give Him credit for letting us live, then we also need to give Him credit for the death and destruction everywhere else. I do not necessarily believe this but I question. One question always leads to another and this wasn't any different. The next question came to me while watching the mall parking lot video on youtube: Looking at the sublime and utter terrifying beauty of the tornado, is the tornado indeed God himself or does God just allow Mother Nature to run her bitchy course? The problem with this, the problem that could lead to the trouble in which I previously spoke is this: God certainly has control over everything, but as it is sinful to not give God credit for something he has done then it is therefor just as sinful to give God credit for something he didn't do. I do believe that we do this quite often, misplace credit that is. As I am not sure whether or not God saved us that day or whether or not he killed the hundreds of other college students, mothers, brothers, sisters, and fathers, I am unsure if an American problem like the death of a dictator is of God. The American way is not loved by God anymore than the German way, the Iraq way, the Chinese way, or any other "way". We as the American population and the American Christian need to get that out of our heads and realize that the terms American and Christian are not synonymous. It is of American man to say the Pledge of Allegiance in Church, not of God, by God, through God, or most definitely not to God. It is directed towards the person sitting next to you.

Whether it is by God, by man, or God via man, I am not sure on these questions. I doubt you do as well, because we certainly can't answer why the good died and the horrible men that stole, raped, and murdered on the post-tornado streets of Tuscaloosa lived.