One of my children adamantly states there is no God. When a person dies there is no afterlife. The person just ceases to exist.
Nothing I say or do can change his mind, but then nothing he says or does changes mine. The basic difference between us is “belief.”
I see a flower and I believe that something greater than “chance” created such complexity. I hold a baby in my arms and attribute that miracle to more than evolutionary ontology.
I’ve seen ugly in my life, so I know evil exists. If so, then why can’t good also be a palpable existence among us?
Because I need hope in my life, I choose to believe.
When reality hits me square on the head, I need the salve of hope to heal and keep on going. I may not understand sadness or the ugly around me, but I do understand goodness. I've seen it - a better day always waits ahead.
I refuse to believe that I won’t smile again or love again. No one can convince me that I was better off not knowing or loving someone to avoid the pain when they are taken from me.
I need hope in my life; I choose to believe.
I tell my son that only one of us will be surprised that there was “life” after death. If all I did was live a hopeful life and it ended here, so what? According to him, I won’t exist to continue the argument, but when he wakes up on the other side though, I will be standing there, shaking my finger at him, telling him, “I told you so.”