Questioning and Believing

I only question things when I am trying to make sense of things. If I intuitively understand something, I don’t ponder on it too much.

Basically, I want things to make sense to me. If it does, I don’t question it.

For example, I have a natural mom-daugther relationship with my mom because she gave birth to me and raised me. Then, through all the time we spent together and the talks we have had, we have developed a sturdy, relational mom-daughter relationship. I don’t spend a single second of my time questioning whether she really is my mom or not because it makes sense to me that this woman who says she is my mother is, in fact, my mom.

It would be ridiculous at this point of life for me to tell my mom, “I’m not sure you are my mom. Let’s do a DNA test. How can I be sure that you aren’t a serial killer who is just fattening me up to kill me later on?”

Because of the relationship we had since my conception and the relationship we have built for the last 27 years, it is more ridiculous for me to question our relationship than it is for me to believe in it.

It is the same way with God. I haven’t questioned God and His existence since I responded to Him relationally. I can’t question His existence because He has been relationally there for me; opening and closing doors, comforting me, showing me His beauty in all things. So instead of questioning Him, His existence, or His goodness, I find myself asking Him for advice, asking Him to teach me to rejoice in what He does, and to break my heart for what breaks His.

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My momma and me back in ’94.
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