Life isn't fair. It never was, never will be. But what do we want? We want fair. At least that's what we think we want. You look at something as simple as a gnat, this creature that can barely manage sustaining itself in the air, and it doesn't seem fair that God would have bothered enough to give it of all things, the ability to fly. Why not me? Why am I tethered to the earth by gravity? Why are so many other people going about their lives seeming so happy, so completely at peace with themselves, while my mind is in a constant struggle against itself, fighting for literal survival? It isn't fair. Sometimes it makes me angry.
Even then, I couldn't allow myself to be the malicious one who killed the innocent gnat. I knew better. I knew God had given me gifts of my own which others could as easily envy. So, rather conveniently, I allowed Martha to do the job for me. Fictious as she is, I like her for her spunk.
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