What's God Got to Do With It?

Some say that God gives us what we can handle. (To believe this you have to believe there is something out there called God, so if you don't then you might as well stop reading here.) I tell myself this as I start to fall apart whenever the number on my BP monitor soars above 200.

Having an odd chronic illness where my blood pressure goes sky-high for no reason, causing my heart to race and my head to feel like a balloon about to burst, sure does suck. But my disease is child's play compared to what horrors befall others. In fact, so many people suffer so many crippling and debilitating diseases, you've got to wonder what God is thinking. It's like he's got a huge pile of Legos and just put things together willy-nilly; some people come out great and others come out a mess. I can think of no other explanation.

My particular condition arrives with no warning and stops me in my tracks, making it impossible for me to do anything else but pay attention and pray for it to go away. I pray to a number of Gods: first and foremost, the twin Gods Metoprolol and Lisinopril, shall they live and prosper. Next, the God we call Celery, with its odd ability to calm the spirits roiling about within me. (Don't ask me why but it works, something about it being a diuretic.) Last but not least, I admit to appealing to that other God, the one everyone's always arguing about. Believe in Him or not, still, I do implore Him to lay off and go bother someone else, like maybe the Clintons.

I know, what's God got to do with it? Probably nothing, but maybe everything.