CHLOE’S STORY - 3
Ironically, I never bought lottery tickets because I thought it was a waste of money. Why then was I okay with
betting my life on chance? For the first time it struck me that the meaning of life might not be a novelty riddle after all. It might be a matter of life and death. In fact, it might even be a matter of eternal life and death…but that wasn‟t even the worst part.
What really shook me that day was the realization that if I didn‟t know the meaning of life then I couldn‟t teach my daughter what it was or how to fulfill it. So I was leaving her fate up to chance as well. How could I do that to her in good conscience? What excuses could possibly be good enough to make it okay to abandon my own daughter in the sea of fate without a sail or a compass? “I‟m not smart enough?” “Nobody knows?” “Nobody can know?” What about, “The Lord works in mysterious ways?”
To my surprise I found I was no longer just sitting on a park bench at my little suburban playground. I was waffling at a crossroad in my life. Should I go down that rabbit hole or find another way to write these thoughts off and get back to my routine, auto-pilot life?
I actually didn‟t have to second guess myself for very long. Regardless of anything else, the bottom line was I was a parent, and I had a responsibility to my child. A father‟s job is to teach his children how to make the most out of life, and since I didn‟t know the meaning of life I didn‟t have an end goal to teach my daughter how to accomplish. There wasn‟t a choice in the matter. I was going to have to find the meaning of life for her so I could teach her everything she needed to know to have the best chance at making the most out of life.
After we left the park I stopped by the library on the way home and checked out some books whose titles suggested they might have something to say about the
meaning of life. I wasn‟t sure where to start looking so I picked a selection of self-help, pseudo-Eastern spirituality, and Western philosophy books.
Yes, I realize how anticlimactic stopping by the library and checking out some books sounds, but what would you have done? It‟s not like there were any wise men sitting on top of mountains anywhere near my house to ask. And when you think about it, this really was the next best thing. If some wise man (or woman) somewhere had already figured out the meaning of life they would have put their answer in a book. All I had to do was go to a place where they keep lots of book and find the one the master wrote his/her revelation down in.
Ironically, I never bought lottery tickets because I thought it was a waste of money. Why then was I okay with
betting my life on chance? For the first time it struck me that the meaning of life might not be a novelty riddle after all. It might be a matter of life and death. In fact, it might even be a matter of eternal life and death…but that wasn‟t even the worst part.
What really shook me that day was the realization that if I didn‟t know the meaning of life then I couldn‟t teach my daughter what it was or how to fulfill it. So I was leaving her fate up to chance as well. How could I do that to her in good conscience? What excuses could possibly be good enough to make it okay to abandon my own daughter in the sea of fate without a sail or a compass? “I‟m not smart enough?” “Nobody knows?” “Nobody can know?” What about, “The Lord works in mysterious ways?”
To my surprise I found I was no longer just sitting on a park bench at my little suburban playground. I was waffling at a crossroad in my life. Should I go down that rabbit hole or find another way to write these thoughts off and get back to my routine, auto-pilot life?
I actually didn‟t have to second guess myself for very long. Regardless of anything else, the bottom line was I was a parent, and I had a responsibility to my child. A father‟s job is to teach his children how to make the most out of life, and since I didn‟t know the meaning of life I didn‟t have an end goal to teach my daughter how to accomplish. There wasn‟t a choice in the matter. I was going to have to find the meaning of life for her so I could teach her everything she needed to know to have the best chance at making the most out of life.
After we left the park I stopped by the library on the way home and checked out some books whose titles suggested they might have something to say about the
meaning of life. I wasn‟t sure where to start looking so I picked a selection of self-help, pseudo-Eastern spirituality, and Western philosophy books.
Yes, I realize how anticlimactic stopping by the library and checking out some books sounds, but what would you have done? It‟s not like there were any wise men sitting on top of mountains anywhere near my house to ask. And when you think about it, this really was the next best thing. If some wise man (or woman) somewhere had already figured out the meaning of life they would have put their answer in a book. All I had to do was go to a place where they keep lots of book and find the one the master wrote his/her revelation down in.
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