How can you struggle with faith? M asked me the other day. You either have it or you don’t.
Yes, of course.
But sometimes, you want it, you really want it, but you have that iota of doubt. You want the empirical evidence. You NEED the empirical evidence. Because you DON’T have faith.
I see his point.
It’s hard to be a logical girl who’s made her own way for most of her life, and at the same time, to believe there is a master plan. That God is in control.
“Hell, no! I’d think. I’m in control!”
And yet, I’m starting to think that God really is showing off. And showing me His presence in my life. Because He knows I need that evidence.
I look over at M. in the room with me and still have moments of disbelief that it’s really happened. Consider all the things that had to be put in place to make this reconciliation happen. I didn’t go after this. Who did that?
God did it.
I think about how I’ve tried to leave Tampa since almost the moment I returned to Florida in 1996. And yet, it had an inexplicably tight grip on me. The harder I tried to leave, the stronger I was pulled back. I have amazing will. Strong will. I should have left and stayed gone. I didn’t. Who did that?
God did that.
Michael’s father suffered for two decades with heart attacks and strokes. Invalided, he died about at about the age M. is now. With a strong family history of heart problems, a 40-year smoking habit, and other health issues, how likely do you think it would be that M’s heart would be relatively healthy after damage from a silent heart attack some time in the past, one he didn’t even know he’d had? That the heart would work around the damage? It’s not logical. Who did that?
God did that.
In my life.