The big thing about Christianity is believing in something you can't see. However, the best way I can explain is to say that I have never said a prayer that has not been answered. When I was 6, I was diagnosed with Leukemia. I was sick for months. Finally one day, my mom took me to the Church for prayer. A week later, I was told at a doctor's appointment that all traces of cancer were gone. My oldest brother was still born and is now 22, healthy and married, trying to have kids of his own. My other brother had a stroke when he was born and was diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy. Today it is confined to one arm, with which he has incredible use. There have been many times in my life where I have found myself living in a house with more than one family due to various affairs, but I have never been on the street or without a meal. I believe in God because I have seen way too many miracles not to. I've never known anything in a light of no beliefs.
Not to be too snarky about it, but why would your god give you leukemia in the first place? Also, "stillbirth" generally refers to a child being born unresponsive. Are you saying that your brother was "resurrected" as a newborn? If your claims are to be believed, you seem to have had more than your share of tragedy in your life. This does not in any way appear to support the contention that a god exists and intervenes in human affairs. Since none of your prayers have ostensibly gone unanswered, why don't you pray that your older brother's cerebral palsy be cured completely? Also, your understanding of what contitutes a "miracle" seems rather vague.
This is Natasha…just easiest to log in as "anonymous". Found your blog via facebook! This is an old post, so hope you don't mind another comment. I have thought a lot about this very question over the years…. at some point, the more I thought about religion, the less it made any sense. Even so, I still believe in God, though my worldview is waaaayyyy different than it used to be. A number of years ago, I had the realization that I mostly believed because of fear. I literally had the hell scared out of me. That is a sucky thing to realize, because the obvious implication is that you don't really believe at all. So, I spent a few years (and still am) picking things apart and asking myself why I *would* believe aside from fear - because I was told that growing up? because it's easy/acceptable in our culture? because of some miracle story? because of a feeling? I never really found a concrete answer, but for now, I have landed on believing partially as an expression/acknowledgement that I don't actually understand anything that matters in life (relationships, purpose, meaning, etc.). Believing in God forces me to admit that I am limited, and that there are things much bigger than me. (I imagine you could say the exact same thing about science.) For me, I choose to believe that "bigger thing" is a loving God. But it is simply that - a choice. I could be wrong. And certainly, I am both ashamed and regretful of the times in my life when I have used belief in God as a means to exploit or hate (even if very well intentioned and masked as "love"). The other reason I am still hanging on to belief, I probably can't verbalize as easily - but essentially it would have to do with the concept of grace, and a desire to both give and receive grace in a world that I sometimes hate with everything in me. Belief, against all odds, sometimes seems like the only way to fight injustice or suffering in the midst of tragedy and death - for lack of a better way to word it. My sister-in-law died this year at age 33. Before she died, she suffered…a lot. And no person could fix it. And no medicine could fix it. It was just beyond control. Praying/crying/mourning/believing was my way of finding grace and giving suffering the middle finger. Otherwise, my choice was bitterness and anger over all that is so jacked up in this world. I chose belief because I wanted to stay soft - the other choice seemed like a further loss. But, no, I have no evidence or empirical data. And for now, I'm okay with that. At the end of the day, I imagine an atheist like yourself and a believer like me are more alike than different - we may have arrived at different conclusions, but our intent/heart is the same - we're just trying to figure out what is real and true.
4 comments:
The big thing about Christianity is believing in something you can't see. However, the best way I can explain is to say that I have never said a prayer that has not been answered. When I was 6, I was diagnosed with Leukemia. I was sick for months. Finally one day, my mom took me to the Church for prayer. A week later, I was told at a doctor's appointment that all traces of cancer were gone. My oldest brother was still born and is now 22, healthy and married, trying to have kids of his own. My other brother had a stroke when he was born and was diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy. Today it is confined to one arm, with which he has incredible use. There have been many times in my life where I have found myself living in a house with more than one family due to various affairs, but I have never been on the street or without a meal. I believe in God because I have seen way too many miracles not to. I've never known anything in a light of no beliefs.
Thank you for your contribution.
Not to be too snarky about it, but why would your god give you leukemia in the first place? Also, "stillbirth" generally refers to a child being born unresponsive. Are you saying that your brother was "resurrected" as a newborn? If your claims are to be believed, you seem to have had more than your share of tragedy in your life. This does not in any way appear to support the contention that a god exists and intervenes in human affairs. Since none of your prayers have ostensibly gone unanswered, why don't you pray that your older brother's cerebral palsy be cured completely? Also, your understanding of what contitutes a "miracle" seems rather vague.
This is Natasha…just easiest to log in as "anonymous". Found your blog via facebook! This is an old post, so hope you don't mind another comment. I have thought a lot about this very question over the years…. at some point, the more I thought about religion, the less it made any sense. Even so, I still believe in God, though my worldview is waaaayyyy different than it used to be. A number of years ago, I had the realization that I mostly believed because of fear. I literally had the hell scared out of me. That is a sucky thing to realize, because the obvious implication is that you don't really believe at all. So, I spent a few years (and still am) picking things apart and asking myself why I *would* believe aside from fear - because I was told that growing up? because it's easy/acceptable in our culture? because of some miracle story? because of a feeling? I never really found a concrete answer, but for now, I have landed on believing partially as an expression/acknowledgement that I don't actually understand anything that matters in life (relationships, purpose, meaning, etc.). Believing in God forces me to admit that I am limited, and that there are things much bigger than me. (I imagine you could say the exact same thing about science.) For me, I choose to believe that "bigger thing" is a loving God. But it is simply that - a choice. I could be wrong. And certainly, I am both ashamed and regretful of the times in my life when I have used belief in God as a means to exploit or hate (even if very well intentioned and masked as "love"). The other reason I am still hanging on to belief, I probably can't verbalize as easily - but essentially it would have to do with the concept of grace, and a desire to both give and receive grace in a world that I sometimes hate with everything in me. Belief, against all odds, sometimes seems like the only way to fight injustice or suffering in the midst of tragedy and death - for lack of a better way to word it. My sister-in-law died this year at age 33. Before she died, she suffered…a lot. And no person could fix it. And no medicine could fix it. It was just beyond control. Praying/crying/mourning/believing was my way of finding grace and giving suffering the middle finger. Otherwise, my choice was bitterness and anger over all that is so jacked up in this world. I chose belief because I wanted to stay soft - the other choice seemed like a further loss. But, no, I have no evidence or empirical data. And for now, I'm okay with that. At the end of the day, I imagine an atheist like yourself and a believer like me are more alike than different - we may have arrived at different conclusions, but our intent/heart is the same - we're just trying to figure out what is real and true.
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