​Ye of Brittle Faith

Pain is now a permanent feature of my life. I can say with no small measure of authority that suffering and the specter of death have a way of focusing us, like nothing else, on the Great Questions. Pain is lonely, and it is in those lonely, bleak hours of the night that one thinks on these things. Like a game of poker with eternal consequences, we get a chance to consider whether we want to stand pat on our current set of beliefs or discard them and draw again. Staring into the abyss, one wants to be sure that he has wagered rightly in the Pascalian scheme of things.