GBE2 Meets Theme Thursday: Writing About Faith on a Humor Blog

With tragedy surrounding us this past week, two of my blogging groups have asked us to post about faith or to just follow our hearts in blogging. This is tough because my writing lends itself to humor.

Faith means complete trust or confidence in something. I have faith in a lot of things. I know that when visiting the dog park, my furry friends will jump into the muddy lake and come out disgustingly dirty. I will get a nose bleed from my left nostril at least once a week in the winter time, and even got one this morning; however, the doc has faith that it's just dryness. When dining at a nice restaurant, the salad dressing will drip on my blouse. Most importantly, faith means that one day I will be a thin, even though I will faithfully put on a pound or two this month. I've given my kids specific instructions. If I'm ever on life support, they have promised not to pull the plug until I'm a size six. I have faith that they'll follow my wishes.

Bear's Arm

I know. I know. That's not the kind of faith Mrsupole or Beth were referring to. You both wanted an in depth––spill my guts kind of post about the horrible tragedy in Connecticut. The problem is, when faced with such an unspeakable tragedy, I cannot speak. What does one say about innocent children being slaughtered by a crazy twenty-year-old? 

Should I get political about the issues of gun control and how we should ban assault weapons? I agree. There's no reason anyone needs a gun that shoots rapid fire without the need to reload. Our founding fathers could not have imagined this type of weapon when writing the second amendment, giving folks the right to bear arms. People also discuss getting more help for the mentally ill. Once again, I agree and will further add that we should tax the one percent to pay for it.

I also agree that no child should be fearful of going to school. This tough situation needs answers, and perhaps my group leaders would be satisfied to read my post about how I shed tears when I read the grandfatherly neighbor's account of the tragedy; but personally, I'd rather deal with having faith that when getting dressed tomorrow, I will find a pair of socks that doesn't have a hole in them. That is less painful.