Faith

I have a friend who's an atheist. I love her dearly, and deeply respect her intellect. She asked me one time, if faith is a gift, why God didn't give her any. She wanted to know why I believe, and why she just can't seem to. She truly wants to believe. I hurt for her.

Every year at this time, I remember our conversation. Here's essentially how I answered on that day.

When I drive to work, I drive under a canopy of trees. In the fall, the sunlight streams through the trees and gives the oranges and reds of the leaves the appearance of burning gold. Every morning, the sight of the sunlight on the trees puts a lump in my throat, and causes me to just enjoy a few minutes of blurry-eyed worship. If there were no God, no Creator, the leaves could just fall off the trees when it got cold. They could be reused by the earth to mulch the next year's growth, and continue the cycle every year just as they do now. But why would they need to turn to such exquisite beauty before they fall? There is no scientific requisite for their splendor. For me, more than going to the beach or experiencing a sunset, the leaves changing is like a personal love letter just for me, telling of God's glory and majesty. It's why I don't dread winter, and why I don't mind the time of dormancy when the earth prepares to burst forth again in spring.

There are so many other reasons that I believe in God, and in the saving power of His Son. Reasons that are exclusive to me, and to my own circumstances. My testimony is a story for another time, however. His grace and love are not exclusive to me, and are freely and readily available to any who seek Him. It is my prayer that my atheist friend will seek Him. For when she does, she will find Him, when she seeks with her whole heart. Jeremiah 29:13