I too would be an atheist—if it weren’t for all the evidence for God.
I’m bothered by the suffering in our world. When pain, frustration, and death are on every side, and we cry out to God but He seems silent, it can cause me to question my faith.
And then I lay on the ground and stare at the sky on a clear night. I gaze and I muse at the universe.
Every explanation for the beauty of our universe falls flat compared to the creation of an awesome God.
I’ve witnessed the birth of my children, and the birth of countless animals—and I’m amazed beyond words at the intricacy and wonder of that child. No “scientific” explanation can even begin to satisfy my soul.
So I have concluded, to the satisfaction of both my heart and my mind, that there must be a Creator God. And if, in fact, there is a Creator God—then who am I?
I have no choice but to fall on my face and worship Him who chose to make me a part of this awesome creation.
And if I’m a part of this world, then I’m a part of the beauty and the pain; I’m a part of the life and the death; I’m a part of the love and the hate.
So I cry out to God—and He speaks to my heart.
Even without the Bible, even without the knowledge of Jesus, I would worship an awesome and holy God.
Now, if my soul cries out in worship, then it becomes prudent for me to know what He wants of me.
Since the beginning of time—since the day of creation—mankind has searched for God. And God has lived among us.
Others have written about it. Others have witnessed His glory. Others have seen His face.
And from those words, I hold in my hand the Bible.
Those stories, those words, those truths, those relationships—they have inspired me to worship Jesus.
