Obviously, given my vocation, I have thought long and hard about God. I've had countless discussions, lectures, and uninhibited questions dealing with the big guy. Most people wonder why I have faith. They ask if there was a specific situation that gave me faith? Was there a miraculous idea or an ominous question incepted in my brain. The answer is always a resounding yes. Yes, there was a question. One specific question that I couldn't help but answer. Scour the universe for even a hint to the answer. A question so daunting I cowered in its shadow. An everlasting, perpetuating, metronomic question that hypnotized my conscious. The question that made me believe in God was this: "How long did a T. Rex live for?" Let me clarify in college terms: "what was the average lifespan of a Tyrannosaurus Rex?" You may find that childish and I admit it is rather moronic, but then I sought the answer to this and a number of other seemingly pointless inquiries. Were there 75-year-old T. Rex’s pushing around tennis-ball-bottomed walkers with their tiny arms? What about the middle age T. Rex?
Sick and tired of risking his neck to catch and devouring triceratops all day. Comes home to a disrespectful nagging mate and ungrateful pestering offspring? The answer is that most T. Rex’s didn’t live past 30. They were just hitting their prime. Most didn’t live past 18! How miserable is that? This question or rather, the search for the answer, lead me to believe in God. Not in the classical, gray beard, Church going kind, but the creator, the universal, the eternal entity that controls all matter, purpose, and gravitational direction kind. You might be asking yourself why? Well, ladies and gentleman. I have the answer, well I have AN answer at least, it was the best I could come up, bear with me...
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