Why Believe?

16 09 2006

At times I don’t know why I believe what I believe. I have no earthly
idea why any intelligent human being would believe in God. It just
makes no sense. All this talk about sin and apples and "The Fall" and
evil in the garden. It doesn’t seem to add up. Why should the average
person in a Starbucks and Ipod world care about two naked people in the
bushes–what do they have to do with my life–whether they existed or

Whenever I start thinking about these types of questions,
it always leads me back to other questions like what is the meaning of
life? What am I here for? I think everybody, whether they believe it or
not, wants to know the answers to those questions.

When I was
a junior in college I just couldn’t seem to figure out who I was. I
didn’t know where I wanted to be. All I did know was that I couldn’t
seem to fit in anywhere. I was like my own piece of a 1000 piece puzzle
but I was lost. My experience with God was abusive. I kept hitting
myself and he kept loving me for some reason although I didn’t know
it…I have lots of bad habits. Like falling in love with guys who
could care less. Like telling myself over and over that I can’t do
something. Like feeling worthless. But one day I finally saw God
opening the door for me to come in and I decided to take the offer. It
was the weirdest thing–I felt like I could breathe for the first time
in my life. I felt like I could see clearly. I didn’t want to kill
myself anymore. I wanted to live. And that’s why I believed…

sometimes I still think about the garden. And it still doesn’t add up.
Why do I believe in a God that I cannot see? Why do I believe the
stories? Quite frankly, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. But I do
know that one day when I sat on the floor with a bottle of pills,
wantingn to end my life, he opened the door. And when he opened the
door, I didn’t get all the answers to life’s problems. I just felt
accepted. And for me that was enough  to give it a try.




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