In anger and bitterness, a skeptic asked how I could believe in something I couldn’t see. There were no words to explain or metaphysical hypothesis to give. I did the only thing I knew how…
Placing her hand on my chest, I asked her what she felt. I feel your heart beating, she said wryly. I asked her if she saw it. I asked if she touched it. I asked her if she could explain how it worked. I asked if there was anything I did to make it continuously beat in my chest. She gently shook her head from side to side.
Volleying the question back to her, I asked how she can believe in something she can’t explain or see. I don’t know, she admitted. Yes, you do, I told her. You’re sure in your hope it works and certain of the things you do not see. It’s faith.
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