Does God really exist?

*This post was supposed to have been posted on the 7th Mar, but because of internet issues, I see now it wasn't. Oh well!

When Zoe died, this was a question I had to grapple with. What my faith real? Even atheists have faith - they have faith that there is no God. So yes, my faith was real. Was the God I believed in real? Hmm... That was a harder one.

It wasn't the first time I'd asked that question, but it was the first time that I really took the time to think about it, to allow myself the space to contemplate the possibility that there wasn't a God. It was the first time that I gave myself permission for it to be okay if I decided there wasn't a God. (Well, if you read my blog regularly, you'll know what answer I found in my search.)

I've recently started reading a blog by Rachel Held Evans. She writes so beautifully, and honestly, and about deep stuff. I love her heart - she has such compassion for others. Her recent post, about the fact that so many Christians ask this very question, and have to grapple with it, really touched me. What touched me even more was the number of comments affirming the content of the post.

Our experience when we returned to SA was that we were surrounded by people who had NO IDEA of the pain we were in, or how much we hated the fact that they could experience such apparent joy - they had CLEARLY never suffered. While I now see that my response was very much coloured by my own grief, I do believe that, too often, church is a place where people pretend, where they behave in the manner they think they 'should' or 'ought' to.

Even now, my praise of God is always tinged by a halo of grief. I doubt that will ever change. I can't praise the way I used to, because now I know that there are times when God will not intervene, where He will not save, where He will not redeem, where He will not perform a miracle. It's not for lack of desire on his part, or lack of ability. It's because he has chosen to allow himself to be bound by the laws of physics and chaos. The world is far more chaotic than we think it is. The so-called 'Butterfly Effect' theory explains that well. So I still struggle to abandon myself in worship. Yet:

Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name

I think that is far more authentic worship - to know the depths of grief and pain, and even there, to be able to worship. But to the outside world, it doesn't look like "worship". There are no smiles, no adoring sighs, no hands raised, no head raised in wonder to the ceiling, no dancing a jig. Instead, there is hesitancy in uttering words, tears aplenty, groans that words cannot express, heads and shoulders bowed - not because we DON'T believe, but because we do. We believe, despite everything. We are broken, at the foot of the cross.

Too often, we judge the exterior appearance. Too often, we heap scorn on those who are different, who worship differently, because we cannot hear their heart, or know their inmost thoughts.

I am guilty of this. I am guilty of looking around during worship, judging who is *really* connecting with God, or wondering what others think of me & my worship style.  I, too, need to remember that for many, the fact that they are in church is a victory, a miracle, a sign that there is forward movement in their faith. I need to be gentle, loving and kind with others, and with myself.

Each of us, at least once in our lives, will have to ask and answer this question. For some of us, it comes around with regularity. Just as you think you've got a handle on the answer, you discover another angle, another facet you hadn't considered, another obstacle in your path. Once again, you will have to dig deep to find the courage to face this question head on, to be honest in your search and honest in your answer.

To those who have yet to start this journey - don't judge us: we are not weaker than you, or less faithful than you, or less intelligent than you - we are merely struggling with the vagaries of life and with a cognitive dissonance that must be resolved if we are to move forward. Don't patronise us: nothing hurts more than Biblical exhortations  and social niceties. Don't ignore us: the questions we ask have value beyond belief, for us personally, but for the Church as well. Don't exclude us: we need you as much as you need us - we are part of the same Body.

To those who have already completed this journey - have patience with the rest of us still on it. Pray for those of us on this journey - we need the encouragement, support and prayer of 'that multitude of saints who surround us'.

To those on this journey, I applaud you. It takes guts to walk this road. I pray you reach your destination.