Ok, I'm gonna share my heart with y'all. I believe in God. I have seen Him work in my life many times. When I asked God into my life in 1984 (BTW, I left the Watchtower in 1979), I was 'brought' to a little church. There, I made great friends and sometimes my friends would get a little jealous over some of the things I would tell them that I was seeing God do in my new found life. Some of those things were incredible and hard to believe even by my new Christian friends. Then after a few years, my true narcissistic nature came back out and I had very little to do with God or church. This has gone on for most of the time, even up until now. Sure, I have had crises' over the past twenty years or so, like when my little girl was born thirteen weeks premature and weighed about a pound and a half. I got real 'spiritual' then, and prayed daily (even hourly), but in time I was back to my old self again. There have been other times of crisis where again I would cry out to God for help. All my crises’ have resolved as if there were a hand greater than mine directing those events. The problem for me, my dilemma, is that when my prayers are answered, it disturbs me that other’s are not. For instance, my little girl survived her ordeal and is now a very healthy ten year old. But what about those parents in the same place that I was in when she was born, who didn’t have their prayers answered? This challenges my faith. It’s kinda like the guy who is the soul survivor of a plane crash who gives God credit for saving him. And I think he should give God credit. Who am I to say that God didn’t save him? But it’s also kind of an insult to all of those who perished on the crash. How can I believe that God will answer my prayers for today at work with a given known struggle I have to face, and then when I turn on the news later I see where a dozen school children were killed while a school bus was crossing the railroad tracks? The apparent iniquity of this makes me feel guilty for thinking God helped me today with a problem at work, but didn’t help a bus driver see an oncoming train. Yet, that said, I feel again like the guy who survived the plane crash. I can look back on the day and ‘see’ His hand, and I thank Him for His help. I can’t explain it, but I know it to be true. There’s a Greek expression that says something like; it’s when two truths won’t reconcile.
There’s no God? Prayer is only talking to yourself? This can’t be true. I will never concede to this belief. I will never make the decision that God doesn’t exist in my mind. It would be like a son shunning his father. I can’t do it. Am I a fool? I hope not. But I don’t think so. When I look at my body and I see how wonderfully it is made, I know there is a God, a Creator. Maybe I’m weak and need God to make it through life? Guilty. But it’s more than that for me. I never knew what it was like to love a child until my little girl was born. I love her unconditionally! I’m sure this is how my Father feels toward me. I can’t make sense out of the iniquities that see going on around me. All I know is God is real and He loves me. He has always provided me all my needs. He exists, and I will continue to speak with Him in prayer for the rest of my life.