Yes, money is better, especially when you don’t have enough of it. But since you still believe in G-d and in eternal happiness or eternal misery, why assume that you will be destined toward misery? Maybe your suffering in this life is a test and a kind of purgatory that is designed to make you worthy for the happiness in the afterlife. That is something no amount of money can buy.
When a child is placed in the naughty corner at some point the punishment needs to stop. From the get go (meaning my conception, literally) I’ve been up against a wall, in a hostile environment (heck my mom was in terrible stress when she was carrying me, she wished she ‘d miscarry and WAS DUMB ENOUGH TO FREAKING TELL ME YEARS AGO). My dad, in some respects, was as warm, selfless and mentally balanced as Robert De Niro in the movie The Fan. In my worldview God is both omnipotent and omniscient, Satan is like a stupid, helpless Pit Bull on a leash, God needs to free him if he’s going to harm anyone. My spineless mom could have miscarried as she had wished, but God wasn’t going to let me off the hook that easily, was he? The only time when God gets nervous is when I get too close to being happy and moving past the mortifying past. More prosaically, I am the unfortunate product of an inferior man, a passive, manipulative woman without much of a personality, I have subpar genes, those confounded genes expressed themselves, and here I am, a lifetime of losing behind my belt, considering God like anything but an ally, I repeated a year very early in my schooling, got deeply hurt and humiliated by that, was the only one wearing glasses in grade 1, by then I was already a self-conscious mess , ADD/ADHD, enuresia until an age when it’ s not even funny, went to a school with a whole floor devoted to handicapped children, two guys I sort of befriended told me they thought I was handicapped when they first saw me because I squinted. Yeah, good times. God thinks he did me a huge favour by creating me! How do i begin to tell him?
Money is much more than what you say it is, if i were financially independant, God would need to work really hard to make me feel cursed, life would be a succession of dreams, positive experiences, doors open left and right instead of a shriveled, stagnant life. Without money, I am at the mercy of God’s will and life’s hostility. Satan is powerless without God’s knowing grin, they’re really like politicians who seem to hate each other’s guts when the camera is rolling, behind closed doors they’re having a good laugh. seriously, who would want to have a Heavenly father who puts one of his “children” through hell to make a point (Job). Never mind the fact that his wife probably lost her soul in the process. Life is a lottery, I picked a losing ticket. I am not necessary, the world would still go round despite my not being here, nothing was right about my conception (came at a bad time, dad was p*ssed when my mother broke the news), I am not smart, my whole being is made up of subpar, worthless material, I am cheaply made, my personality has been stifled in the whole process, I am a shadow of a man, the only person truly responsible for this mess is God. Make me equipped to face life or don’t make me. God is as worthless as my earthly father. You gotta be heartless to create someone knowing they’ll feel alienated in life and will never find their place in life, spending their whole lives wishing things away and wishing God had never had the stupid idea to create them. Money would change all that, money is an antidote against hopelessness, do you think God will bless me financially, going against his destiny of lack and failure? God is liberal, lavish, gracious with some and a stingy meanie with others. LIving from paycheck to paycheck after all the slaps in the face I had to take, you’re kidding, right? That’s the perfect, awesome, eternal plan for me.
God, you mean no scholarship to a US university, no graduation cum laude, no exciting career that I’m an expert in and respected in, you mean not enough money to go to Paris, visit the castles in Bordeaux, go to New York City, you really mean no island hopping in the Bahamas, no house of my dream (around 250 000$ 5-10 years ago), you mean no condo in Florida (people whose blog I followed bought a nice one in Naples for around 120 000$), you mean I’m not going to go to Disneyworld either, no your awesome plan for me is minimum wage jobs for 2 decades, then a “huge” promotion: a menial, routine job that any old dummy could learn in 3 or 4 days. I never had an ambition or a desire to be powerful or rich as Donal Trump, but a couple of hundred grand would have made the difference between a life I curse and a life I embrace. I had to live my whole life defeated, no real break for this loser. It makes you want to be eternally with the genius who allows children with loving, psychologically sound parents and a bright future to die of cancer, and gives a long life to people who feel they don’t belong in this life. Money would be the deus ex machina in this lousy play written by God. OK genius why don’t you give life to people who will be happy with the gift? Thanks for the inferiority complex, thanks for the excessive shyness, thanks for the sense of shame, thanks for the bleak future for all these years, thanks for the heart-expanding loneliness, thanks for the deep-seated inadequacy, thanks for never materializing 95% of my dreams, I appreciate your fatherly love and concern, thanks for reminding me how much you love me
p), thanks for prospering everyone who ever thought I was a joke of a human being.
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What!?!?.