My father did not believe in God. It was his assumption that belief in God robs people of personal responsibility. I don't agree, but I respect his opinion.
My father and I were not very close. It's hard to get close to someone when you are poised to run for your life. His personality was powerful and he was physically large. I've had more leisure, since his passing, to reflect on and recognize our similarities. As I age I'm getting in touch with my inner crank.
At the devotional meeting yesterday, a wonderful little lady related her experience as a smiling, happy person; she just feels better when she's happy. I may have had some spontaneous joy as a child but I learned to suppress it. I was surrounded by very intelligent people. Critical thinkers tend to be critical. I formed the opinion that happy people are shallow and artificial. Realistic people realize that there isn't too much to be happy about in the world.
When Peg commented on happiness, I thought of a nurse at work who was a barmaid for many years. Now she spends a lot of time hugging and kissing on residents in a more or less revolting way. Some she treats as a sort of pet. I want to say, we're not in a bar any more. But her outstanding quality is that she seems sincerely happy and there is always a smile on her face.
When I come to work my extreme level of focus shows as a frown. Under what circumstances would a smile come naturally to my face?
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