(Editor’s Note: This is a guest post by friend of Nothing But The Rain and blogger extraordinaire Kelly of Adventures in Poor Grammar. I’d recommend checking out her blog post-haste.)
It’s been a weird day.
September 11th, 2013 finds me in church.
To be precise, September 11th, 2013 finds me in a Quaker Meeting House.
I like the Quakers. They don’t give a damn if you believe in Buddha, Baby Jesus or Carl Sagan. They’re just happy that you’re there. And they don’t ask anything aside from silence from you while you’re there. That kind of worship is perfect for an atheist who is, in fact, probably thinking about Carl Sagan while she’s sitting there.
It’s not unusual to find me in a Quaker Meeting. I try to attend when I can.
Something about today just made me need . . . what exactly? Community? God? Reassurance?
I can’t think of an American born prior to 2001 who doesn’t feel a tiny bit of dread as the September 11th approaches, but personally, my dread has less to do with what happened on 9/11/2001 and more to do with the past twelve years. Continue reading