Today is Friday the 13th. Last night this sparked a conversation at work with several people and I was totally surprised to find myself alone in the view that superstitions were nothing more than self-fulfilling prophecies.
One girl said she thought most superstitions weren't true but she never walked under a ladder. Well, I never walk under a ladder either but that's only because with my lack of coordination, I would likely knock it over and injure the person balancing on the top.
One guy said he always threw salt over his shoulder, was terrified to break a mirror, and that black cats gave him chills.
I never throw salt - and encourage my children to throw food over their shoulders? I don't need that headache, thank you very much. If broken mirrors caused bad luck, my Dad will be miserable until he's 160 as he's broken every cosmetics mirror my mother ever bought. (You see I come by my lack of grace naturally)
As for black cats causing bad luck, my Taz is very pleased to hear that she gives someone chills but honestly, she's brought nothing but good to me.
Another girl said that she was leery of stepping on cracks in the sidewalks. I'd like to take her to downtown Nashville some afternoon and watch her walk. It must be a sight. I can't believe that a modern-day girl would honestly believe she could cripple her parents by stepping on a sidewalk crack.
If I believe in luck at all (and I really don't), I believe we make our own. I believe we get out only what we put into our lives, our passions, our relationships. And I don't think the bad things that happen to us are caused or could be prevented by avoiding black cats. I think that's a way of feeling like maybe we have control over our fates when we rarely do.
I don't judge those who believe these things. Heavens knows, with the things this life can throw at you, I can't fault anyone for grabbing at something that seems to help. For me, I find it more useful to stop worrying about the next bad thing that's coming (because it is, someday down the road...that's the nature of this life). I'd rather celebrate what I have now and know that when tragedy or hardship strikes, I have a well of strength from Christ, from my family, and from my friends that I can draw on.
So, I was alone last night at work in saying that Friday the 13th doesn't even phase me. It's just one more day full of potential waiting to be filled. Besides, it's a Friday. What could really be wrong with that?