I'm agnostic.
Five years ago, I attempted suicide by jumping from a second-story tier onto a concrete floor. I jumped headfirst, figuring the impact of my head against cement would pretty much shatter my skull and destroy my brain. Instant oblivion.
And it would have worked, too, except somehow, on my way down, my body flipped and I landed on my feet instead. I broke bones in both feet, and completely destroyed the heel on my right foot. If I'd done that damage to my head, I'd be dead.
Yet I'm here. There's no logical way I can think of for my body to have flipped upside down in such a short distance. Is there a reason it happened? Was it not my time to go? Was I spared?
Or was it just a crazy fluke?
We can have faith, we can believe, but ultimately, none of us can know whether God exists. To some people, their religious beliefs are merely one aspect of their existence. Others exist for their beliefs. Some people act on their faith in noble ways, to enrich the world, while some allow their faith to divide them from others who share their core values.
In this country, we mock Muslims in Sudan who jailed a teacher for allowing a teddy bear to be named Muhammad, but think nothing of it when Republican candidates at a recent debate were, in essence, asked if they were Christian enough to be president. Baptists pillory Mitt Romney for the crime of being a Mormon. It's not enough to worship God, you have to engage in the proper rituals, say the right things. Oh, and shun the proper people.
Maybe it's the divisiveness of organized religion that makes me turn away. I'm agnostic, but I'm open to possibilities. When I see a particularly lovely sunset, all crimson and azure, I think yes, there is some higher power in the universe, a controlling intelligence that could be called God.
Then I look at how so many people behave in the name of that God, and my skepticism returns.
