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I just have to say this. I no longer believe you when you tell me that God does not exist.

In a world drawn out with such stark contrast, Who really stands a chance? What are the rules? How do you win if you don’t know what you’re playing at?

You might live to be 100 and die in the arms of the person you love the most. Surrounded by your children and your children’s children. Or perhaps you will touch every corner of this earth with your bare feet, swim in every ocean and you will find joy in the exhilaration and beauty of the unknown.

Maybe you will meet kind strangers who help you along the way. Or you will go it alone and uncover strength and beauty in solitude.

You might also have your life snatched away in a senseless act of violence. An end marked by chaos and fear. Maybe you will never get to say your goodbyes. Or perhaps you will lose a child, your soul mate, your very will to live. It could be cancer, or a car accident, suicide or drowning.

Perhaps you will know anger and hatred better than a single living soul. Maybe you will wear self-loathing like a second skin and never know peace.

What sort of a world can this be where the bodies of children wash up on the shore? How can any of us stand to breathe the air and eat the food that we fill with poison? Is there any way to atone for the destruction of species? Of ecosystems? Of truth?

In the midst of great tragedy, life goes on.

Sometimes we don’t even bat an eye as the whole entire world goes careening toward the brink of madness.

And still, there is enough beauty to break your heart every single second of every single day.

If not for the existence of something greater, then what? Then why?

Someone recently told me that God knows who I am, but he does not know me. And how would he? That makes more sense than I can explain.

I admit that sometimes the truth is terrifying. That it would be easier not to seek him out. It is easy to dismiss things we do not understand, or that do not support the system of belief we have spent so long painstakingly crafting.

It is easy to think we know

But discerning the truth is hard.

I admit that I do not understand prayer. And that I am fumbling constantly That I feel wholly vulnerable in this pursuit. And that is both humbling and revealing.

This is not an easy thing. But one thing I know is that I no longer believe you when you tell me that God does not exist.

© Elizabeth McLaughlin | November 13, 2015


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