With all that I know of myself and the world now, faith is hard. I can't prove God exists. No one can, despite what they might say. And before you even try, I can quote back Anselm's proof of God, the rebuttal, and the reply to that. So if you can't, don't even try; you're out gunned here. I don't know why so much bad is allowed to happen. Again, I've been around this block a few thousand times and you will not likely bring anything new to this conversation so just listen.
But despite all that, I can't let go of this person Jesus. Just today I read, "what would you ask Jesus if you suddenly met him?"
I know exactly what I'd do because I have thought about this a lot...I mean A LOT. In fact, it's so certain in my head that I had the reaction just reading the question. And it is NOT the title of this post. You know why? That isn't even important to me at this point. My inner conception has burned to ash so many times. My mental and physical body is so scarred. I just don't even care why any more.
You know what I would do? I'd cry. I'd sob so hard it would rattle the foundations of the universe. Like ugly, hard wracking, can't breathe, soul-crushed weep. And I'd weep because he's real. He's there. And that would mean all the stuff he said is true. The pain has meaning. Life has meaning. All is not lost to the void.
You know what I think he'd do? Obviously I can't know. But I imagine, he'd just grab onto me with those strong carpenter arms, clutch the back of my head with his scarred hand and cry too.
