I just spent 14 hours on campus, so I’m a bit punchy, and also very upset right now. I might regret posting this.

All day, I’ve been watching Facebook as one of my closest friends from college (who I never see anymore but still love like a brother) posted updates on the birth of his first child. In a photo taken at the hospital before labor started, his wife, who didn’t go to school with us, is wearing a hoodie with the name of our college emblazoned across the front.

I spent my evening in the campus chapel, covering a history lecture for the student newspaper and having polite little discussions with the campus Christians. I sometimes forget how pleasant church people can be. One of the chaplains told me: “I don’t know who you are, but you have a real warm, welcoming face. It’s a real asset to you.”

When I got home, my Facebook feed showed my college friend now has a healthy baby boy. I can’t describe what I was feeling, but it was deep and spiritual. My friend and I certainly weren’t among the good religious crowd on campus, but we talked a lot about God and helped each other through some tough times. It was a different type of faith.

The very next post on my Facebook feed was Texas Monthly‘s story about a psychotic prayer group leader who [ed: allegedly] had his 27-year-old wife murdered so she wouldn’t tell her therapist about the drugging and gang rapes he had [ed: allegedly] subjected her to over the course of their brief marriage.

They met at college. My college. Our college.

* I edited this the morning after I wrote it. In light of the Michael Morton case, also recently covered in Texas Monthly, I should be more careful about what I accept as truth. It was Bethany Leidlein Deaton’s “suicide” note that sent me over the edge, but the Michael Morton case also had some horrifying elements, all of which were proven false 25 years after his conviction. I’m leaving this post because I published it and I will stand by that, but I also need to do my part to make sure our justice system functions properly.