I absolutely love the randomness of that. I'm here drinking a coffee that's a little on the cold side, listening to my dog snore and wondering if I should light the wood burner. And that is mind blowing when you think about it.
All this God and heaven stuff shrinks it down. Why do that?
My take? The reality is mind-blowing but abstract and impersonal - Tennyson, having one of those sepia-tinted mid-Victorian crises of faith, wrote about nature caring nothing for the single life (
In Memoriam, IIRC) and that's true, which is what Alan
et hoc genus omne find so chilling. On the scientific view there's no personality out there, nothing to love or link with (Larkin), and some people are terrified to the marrow by it.
I don't get it personally - there are beloved people in the world, and cats, and stand-up comedians, and interesting books, and sandwiches, and music, and peanut butter, so I don't see the need for more. But others apparently do, and fill in their perceived gaps in their own way.