Everything Happens for a Reason

Like Hell it Does

Jaime Church

I found myself being a proper fly on the wall the other day. I was listening to a student defend their favorite quote to a design professor during office hours. It was for some graphic design project, I assume, where the sentiment of the quote was to be communicated by the typography and palette and what have you. Pretty standard design prompt. 

I suppose one only remembers quotes if they happen to be outliers on the inspiring-to-dull bell curve chart. A chart that I admit is technically subjective. Except, in my opinion, when it’s not. This student had chosen a quote which they presumed to be an outlier on the “good” side. Given that this was the incorrect choice given two options, I was forced to eavesdrop on the students' reasoning for this decision. To be clear, I have nothing against this student personally. Maybe they’re really good at C++. Or maybe they’re really good at picking ripe watermelons at the farmers market. But I am quite sure they are failing in the category of quote-picking. The quote, in question, was everything happens for a reason. 

Being peeved by a quote, let alone enraged by it, is pretty pointless. It doesn’t matter at all, as it has literally zero consequence in my life whether this student derives happiness and hope from this quote or not. In fact, I hope they love this quote as much as they said they do, because it’ll need a lot of genuine endorsement to balance my intense objection. As sung by the one and only Barbra Streisand, who am I to rain on someone’s parade? And yet, I can’t let it go. According to the all-knowing AI, roughly 117 billion people have ever lived on this earth. And one individual speaks roughly 450 million words in their lifetime. This means over 5.265 x 1019 words have been spoken on Earth across time and space. And this student had chosen everything that happens for a reason as being their favorite 5 combination. This is a virtually incorrect opinion. Let me demonstrate why. 

Everything happens for a reason is the wooden plaque that Deborah buys at a Hobby Lobby spring savings event that features cursive, dandelion-yellow loopy letters and perhaps a tasteful, original graphic such as a free-style drawn heart or maybe a thoughtful little cross. It lives in Deb’s bathroom just atop her off-white toilet, the one that is guarded by a dusty rose-colored bath mat that was given to her by her sister-in-law, Tracy, when she divorced Deb’s brother, Harry, and decided to move back out to the east coast. (She got rid of most of her things, but was kind enough to save the bath mat for Deb.) Tracy and Harry were a cute couple before the divorce. Deb sort of had to take Harry’s side on the split, because he reminded her that blood is thicker than water. This was a tiny bit of a bummer for Deb, as Tracy had been one of her best friends. Deb doesn’t like drama so she hasn’t really talked to Tracy since things started to get ugly and the move was finalized and all that, but she’s quite sure that Tracy is doing just fine. She was always headstrong, that one! That proved to be a problem for Harry, though, when she would pick a fight about the way he would talk about the young women in the choir at church. The problem with Tracy, is that she wanted Harry to be perfect. Apparently she was always on this high horse. But all that is beside the point. The point is that Tracy lives several hundred miles away now, but it’s ok, because every time Deb goes to the bathroom she can use that pale pink bath mat and read her mantra that everything happens for a reason. 

Thank goodness! Deb really needs that reminder these days. It always makes her feel better. For example, just the other day there had been a shooting at a local Mosque. Now Deb is not muslim, mind you, but she sure did feel bad for all those kiddos who lost their dad and those mums who lost their sons. Because they weren’t really “lost”. She knows right where they are. The mortuary down the road. It’s about a 7 minute drive from Deb’s house. No, Deb decides that the men weren’t accidentally “lost,” so much as they were deliberately shot. She attended the vigil for the whole thing the other day. She didn’t bother to invite Harry, because Harry has this admirable loyalty to the Christian faith. And while he doesn’t endorse the violence down at the mosque any more than the next Joe, he can’t help but be a little satisfied in his conclusion that his church was spared on account of its being correct. Deb loves God, she really does, but she learned at the vigil that some folks call him Allah. Deb knows, like Harry, that her faith was spared because it’s correct. But this darn Allah and all his darn followers sure seem to be on a similar path. So similar, if fact, that Deb finds herself wondering why it had been the mosque and not the temple. She was invited to come to future meetings that had the political aim of eliminating hate rhetoric, but she knew she had to decline. She is Christian. 

Deb is Christian but she isn’t stupid. Down in the locked basement of her heart, carefully sorted in a safe cabinet with all her hard-learned truths, she knows Tracy might have a tiny side of the story worth listening to. And she knows even deeper in her heart that those girls in the choir are in fact being talked about. Everything about them, in fact, except maybe their singing. And this cabinet of suspicion in Deb's heart is very small, because Harry really is a nice guy. He even gave up drinking! She knows because he told her he’s going to the bowling alley instead of the bar on Friday nights now. She is so excited to watch him and his team play someday. They must be getting pretty good by now, because they’ve been bowling ever since……why, come to think of it, they gave up bowling ever since she told them to stop drinking! And this is lovely because it reminders that her toilet quote continues to be right. Oh God thank goodness. And thank goodness she’s Christian! She’ll be alright. And sometimes, when her pillow is wet at night thinking about Amin Abdullah, Nadir Award, and Monsour Kazih in their coffins instead of their beds, she gets up and looks at her toilet quote. And sometimes it helps. When the color of the bath mat reminds her of her dear friend Tracy’s bruises, (she was prone to bruises,) Deb can just turn herself around and realize it’s fine. Because all these things are just a part of life. And that’s a good thing. Because everything happens for a reason. And child pornography is growing in popularity for a reason. And the sitting president is doing what he’s doing for a reason. Deb herself got abused by that one guy in college for a reason. And her mom is dying of cancer for a reason. And some people are homeless and some are billionaires and some people slit their wrists while others live a long and healthy life. And it’s all going to be alright because all of it is supposed to happen because there is a reason. 

This is why she was so happy the other day when she saw that the plaque was 30% off. She loves it. Sometimes, every now and then, she forgets that everything happens for a reason. Sometimes she spaces on why certain things are happening. But when she goes to the bathroom each night to take her non-habit-forming sleep aid, she remembers that somewhere out there there is a reason. And she mostly perks right back up. 

Unfortunately, I don’t think she’s discovered the particular reason in question yet. I haven’t either. That’s why I was forced to be a fly on the wall the other day. I was finally going to hear someone’s argument in favor of the five simple words! Because contrary to the opening of this little piece, I really try not to complain. These things usually don’t get under my skin. But if you didn’t have the answer to a question that is responsible for quite a few things in your life, it would probably get under your skin too. Anyway. The worst part about this whole situation isn't that I didn’t get the answer. The student didn’t really define it like I was hoping. Because not unlike Deb, I also have an inconsequential nook in my heart that has the sneaking suspicion that there isn’t an answer. 

But I suppose a poster that says “Everything happens arbitrarily” really wouldn’t be that inspiring or comforting. It would look all wrong on the page. It wouldn’t fetch an A, that’s for sure! So I understand, actually. As far as picking quotes go, it is in fact an option. But it will be the last pick on my list until the day I die.