“God exists. He is the Creator of all.” Just words—words that almost everyone knows, but doesn’t necessarily believe. They have no meaning unless meaning is given to them. And meaning can only be given through experience.
Originally, in my secret struggle to find my own path, my own set of beliefs, I tried looking at things objectively, philosophically. I went back to the beginning according to science. Science claims that the beginning came with the Big Bang: some tiny particle blew up, creating the space around us today. But that leaves a question unanswered: Where did the particle come from? I realized then that science can’t explain the beginning, where everything came from.
Then I shifted my thinking to the beginning according to religion. There is no explanation, no attempt to explain the unexplainable. It relies simply on faith. We must accept that God has always been there, that God will always be there. For some reason, I like this explanation better. Why try to explain something that no one on Earth can possibly understand?
Later on, as I gave up my attempt at being objective, I found a moment that simply reaffirmed everything that I had previously believed. One early summer morning, I woke up after spending the night at my family’s cabin. I was the only one awake, so I crept outside to the back porch. Still groggy, I didn’t look up for a few minutes, but when I did, I saw the most beautiful sight I could ever have imagined. Just in front the grass was sparkling with droplets of dew. Further out, I saw the pond, rippling softly in the wind, shining with the light of the dawning sun. Occasionally, the faraway bellow of a cow brought me back to reality.
Standing there, soaking everything in, I thought to myself, “This cannot be created by science alone. Someone else had a hand in this.”
God exists. He is the Creator of all. And that means something.
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