I have always had great difficulty in believing in a higher power. Yet, this has not made it a topic that I meet with any indifference. The truth is, there is nothing I think of more – with both angst and dismay. How you put meaning into your life, centers around how you answer the question of belief. If we are not alone, then we should live with some sort of directive, something that brings our lives into a deeper purpose. However, if we are to meet the circumstances of our days alone, then how cruel it is to tell stories of divine beings.
I pray infrequently, at least in the traditional sense. When I do, it is often with the same desperation I approach my days with. I learned this desperation as a child. When met with screaming or sadness, it was my desire to reach out past the void, into something warm and stable. And so as an adult, limping through life, I still reach into that otherness with a small remnant of hope.
But questions as these are unknowable.
No matter the crisis or crucifix, we can never be certain. The life we have here is all we have. We live moment by moment in such uncertain balance. Even the well adjusted among us surrender to the great unknowing. If the God of grace exists, then perhaps such grace is granted not despite our unbelief, but because of it as some branded safety amidst our natural inclinations. Maybe skepticism is our natural posture toward a cruel world and thus grace is the breath of God. We are all upside down from our origins. This life is nothing if not disorientating. The days are evil, but some moment such grace peaks through, and though it does not dispel the tragedy, it does whisper of something beyond its wreckage. Within the cave of our doubt, we look for sparks of something other. In these shadows, we have hope.
Matt simon blog 