How do you explain the color “blue” to a blind man?
How do you explain the concept of “sky” to a child?
How do you explain “love”?
In school, I absolutely hated these questions. I’m an analytical person by nature, and these questions always seemed to require a conceptual response.
How do I explain “blue”? I Google the question, give the blind man a definition of color, then explain differences between “blue” and every other color on the spectrum.
How do I describe the concept of “sky”? I look up the exact point at which the ozone layer begins, the way the air scatters sunlight, and the job description of astronomers.
I research and regurgitate.
So when I’m asked by a non-Christian friend why they need God in their life, or how I can prove God’s existence, I’m at a total loss.
How do you explain God?
It’s not a question I can research the answer to – they’ve, more often than not, done the research themselves and turned up disappointing results.
They’re not asking for a regurgitation of information they’ve already heard. That He is good, hell is bad, salvation is for everyone and we need His love to feel happy and satisfied in our own lives.
I know plenty of happy, fulfilled atheists.
They’re asking me to explain the unexplainable.
To put into words this feeling that I just KNOW. Deep in the pit of my soul, I know that He is God, that He exists, and that I am His.
How do I put my soul into words?
How do I know God exists?
Because there is too much intricacy in the world for me to reasonably believe it all happened by chance.
Because in school we studied chaos theory – the concept that even the most seemingly random assortment of matter, from star clumps to sand particles to snowflakes, fall into patterns and behave in accordance to some central force.
Because every group of people from the beginning of time had the same sense of yearning to know a higher power. To understand why the sun is visible during the day but not at night. To know why snow falls in the winter and rain falls in the summer. To understand lightning and fire.
Because I know what my life was like before I knew Jesus, and I know what my life is like now. I know what it feels like to be unbearably depressed, to want to die, to seek any way possible to numb the pain – even when the numbness eventually gives way to an even greater pain. And I know what it feels like to experience incomparable joy. To wake up with a sense of purpose. To know, at all times of the day and in all aspects of my life, that I am deeply loved.
Because I know what it’s like to feel angry and not know why, and what it’s like to feel lost and to have finally found a starting point for the answers I’ve been seeking.
I feel like a bad Christian sometimes
Sometimes, I wonder if the reason I prefer non-Christian friends is because they’re less likely to ask me about my relationship with God, which means I’m less likely to have to explain it.
Sometimes I wonder if, because I’m so incapable of putting it into words, I might be wrong.
But there’s something in me – something I just can’t explain right now – that gives me hope.
Hope that, one day, I’ll be able to answer this question.
Hope that, through my actions and words, I’ll be able to show the love of Christ, even though I can’t properly explain it myself.
Hope that one day, no one will need to ask this question. Because everyone will know and understand for themselves.
How do you explain your relationship with God? How do you know for sure He exists?
To stay current on my blog posts, make sure you join my email list!
45 Dangerous Questions to Ask God (That Will Change Everything)
How to Make Prayer Part of Your Daily Routine
How I Found a Relationship With The Lord
The Absolute Truth About the Word of God