Does God exist?
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You might think it strange, or philosophical, or even
blasphemous—this question that all
of us have whispered to ourselves one day, if only in the back of our heads
close to where our subconscious lies. Does God exist?
I do have an
answer—but my answer is deeply personal, deeply mine. Will it quench your
thirst? I don’t know but I will share it. Maybe you’ll see some truth in. Maybe
you’ll find in it something that is not in books of scriptures. And maybe it’ll
reach a secret part of your soul—the part the affirmations of scholars could
never find.
A while back a close friend of mine asked me, “Does God
exist?” I looked at him and smiled
wondering I should fall in this trap.
In Egypt, you are not allowed to ask such questions,
although everyone does— but dares not admit it.
And in Canada, to ask that question was to invite an
unwelcome rhetoric of evolutionary and scientific talk that is grounded in the
here and now and nothing beyond.
But my answer, my deep personal answer, is not as glamorous
or as thorough as the eloquent rhetoric you would get from either camp. So I
hesitated, not wanting to sound like a sentimental fool. But the look of
genuine openness in my friend’s eyes compelled me, almost begged me, to answer.
“Yes, he does.” I said as casually as I could. “I am sure he does.”
“Why?” He said with a sigh expecting a lecture on how
everything is by design and how the stunningly accurate engineering marvels of
the universe points at the existence of an intelligent deity.
He was about to be disappointed.
“Because I feel him in my heart. I know he exists. And if it
weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be alive today.” My friend was dumbfounded. My
answer was not clever, was not witty, was not eloquent, but it was true. It was
my answer as I have come to develop it over the years.
There were far too many dark corners in my life…far too many
calamities…far too many disappointments to navigate on my own. If it weren’t
for God’s grace, I would not have made it.
I remember that when I was a child, alone in my bed at
night, I’d cry and cry and cry for hours on end. Nothing would stop the pain
and the tears…except the knowledge, the peace I found inside my heart because
God is here. God hears me. And God one day will take me home.
I was unloved as a child; abandoned by parents that didn’t want
me. A mother who can’t give love because she has never known it herself and a
father who equated parental responsibility solely with financial support. It
was in God’s love that I found peace and hope.
Maybe you are persuaded to tell me that it was a little
girl’s illusion. That God was nothing but a Santa Claus figure or a Fairy Godmother
who kept a miserable kid hopeful.
I tell you that this little kid could not—would not—have
made it through the dark times if God did not exist. He manifested himself to
me, not just in my heart, but also in all the people who loved, protected, and
nurtured me along the way. He protected me from my rashness and my naivety
and my self-destructive urge. He solved
problems I never know could be solved. He worked out messes I saw no way out
of. And in my bleakest darkest hour, it is my faith in him that was the glimmer
of hope burning that kept me going.
This is how I know God exists.
And you... how do you answer people who ask you "Does God exist?"
