The Answer

Loss has a way of rewriting a person’s map. When my mother passed away at only age forty-one, the world suddenly felt cold and without direction. To me, the stars were just burning gas and the silence of the universe was proof of an empty throne. I didn't just doubt God; I dismissed Him. I became an atheist not out of a desire for rebellion, but out of a deep, aching conviction that I was alone.

For years, I walked that path. I wasn’t loud about it, but I was settled. Yet, as I’ve learned through my own journey and through the lives of others, no one stays settled forever, and yet everyone is on their own journey, and that journey must be respected.

Eventually, life brings us to the edge. There comes a moment, whether born of loneliness, a sense of wonder, or a sudden flash of hopelessness, where even the most hardened skeptic finds themselves standing at the shoreline. Sometimes you have to just dip your toe in the water, sometimes more.

There’s an old quote that says, “There are no atheist in foxholes.” But not everyone will have such an intense experience. Everyone walks a different path in their own journey in search of the truth.

I remember a long conversation with a friend named Scott. He was a man of logic and evidence, and he viewed the Bible as nothing more than a historical artifact, blurred by the fingerprints of a thousand scribes. To him, the presence of suffering in the world was the final closing of the case against a Creator.

He wasn't trying to be difficult; he simply wanted a certainty that he couldn't find.

Finally, I asked him the question that cuts through all the noise: “Okay Scott. What would it take for you to believe that God is real?”

Scott thought for a moment and laid out his terms.

"If He appeared on Earth," Scott said. "If He spoke to us directly and told us, 'I am here.' If He told us that there is a purpose, a Heaven, and a way we are meant to live with honesty, morality, and love for one another. If He did it in front of enough witnesses that the word could spread to every corner of the globe so that no one could doubt it happened... then, and only then, would I believe."

I’m not a professional orator or a master of debate. I didn't need to be. I just looked at him and spoke the only truth that mattered.

“Scott,” I said softly, “He already did that.”