I’m seventeen years old, and I’m pretty much your average teenager. Sometimes I’m
quiet, which is often mistaken for shyness, even though I’m not shy. I surround myself with my
friends and my family and my semi-beliefs. Although my beliefs are important, like everyone
else’s, the beliefs I used to have were not the type that could keep my head up during hard times.
I didn’t believe in myself, I had trouble believing in other people, and I had the most trouble
believing in having faith. Like many other people, I had doubts. I was skeptical about the existence
whether having faith actually saved people. This is not a pity story, because like most teenagers, I
had a lot on my plate. My parents got a divorce, my best friend died in a car wreck, and my step-
dad was emotionally abusing my mother. In my mind I kept saying, I would believe in having Faith
if my life improved. I now realize I shouldn’t need proof. I believe in having faith.
Picture this: It is New Years Eve of ’07. Two teenage girls go to a friends house to watch
the ball drop. They have a pretty good time and at about 12:30 A.M. they have to leave. The roads
are in good condition so at 1:00 A.M. when the teenage driver sees a truck swerving behind them
in her rearview mirror, it seems kind of odd. The girls decide to pull in at the nearest turn, after all
it would be the safest thing to do. The driver put on her blinker and had already started turning
when the truck slammed into them. The car did a 360 turn in the road and slammed into a
snowbank that was frozen solid. The truck was gone before the girls could even blink their eyes.
The accident was a hit and run, and the cause of it? A drunk driver. The car accident was not a
major crisis. Nobody died. Neither of the girls were hurt, but it put some strong feelings in their
hearts and heads. How do I know this? Because one of the girls was me.
I was always the type of person who needed to see it to believe it. I only believed the
facts, the things that had been proven. I didn’t go to church when I was growing up and I didn’t
have a religious background. I like many people couldn’t believe in having faith in anything until I
had a reason to, evidence, or a push that it would actually gain something for me. Is having
faith the thing that keeps us alive? It’s up to you, either you believe it, or you don’t. Yes, it took a
car accident for me to believe. A car accident that could have potentially killed two innocent
teenage girls, just trying to get home safely. I still can’t prove that having faith gets us anywhere,
but I do believe someone was watching out for us that night. I believe in my faith as long as it in
my own way.
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