I am not naturally religious. I easily
identify with the atheist who considers the world’s immense suffering gives little
evidence of a superior being, or the postmodernist who sees Christianity as one
religion among many, and adapts or invents one according to personal logic.
Or, like the secularist, it is easy to accept
that some higher power brought the world into being, but life generally belies
the fact that God is still involved in our sorry state. Then I’d be a practical
atheist—believing in God but living as though He didn’t exist.
So why am I a Christian? Those who lack the experience
of a Christian home may inherit a scepticism that inoculates them from
considering Christ’s claims. I grew up in a Christian home that gave me a view
of Christianity from the inside and I lacked the disadvantage of the popular
critical view.
Eventually, I discovered the Bible carried
its own authority and gave the only meaningful explanation of life as we know
it. Further, it squarely faces the problem of evil and provides a remedy, for
its cause and its cure. All other philosophies pale in comparison.
But emotion still played a part. At ten years
of age, the crucifixion of Christ impressed on me the depth of God’s love compelling
me to decide for Him. The advancing years have proved the Bible’s wisdom and
authenticity.
Today, happily married for fifty eight years,
I enjoy the companionship of a close and growing family, a continuing
purposeful life and confidence for the future, here and hereafter. I place my
gratitude firmly in God who drew me into His family and His legacy of wisdom
for life.
