I was born and raised into a Baptist home, to two wonderful parents and an older brother and sister. I’ll write more on them later. I was raised being taught that there is a God, one God, the creator of our world and universe and of all things, and that a person’s inevitable sin will cause separation from God and that God sent His Son, in the person of Jesus Christ, to bridge that gap. That if a person believed that Christ is the Son of God, died on the cross on behalf of our sins, and was resurrected and taken up to heaven, that that person’s relationship with God was restored, and that his or her spiritual death was defeated, and that upon his or her earthly death their soul would be taken to heaven as well. I was taught that God loves us, wants the best for us, and that if we follow Him and live a life in pursuit of Him He will take care of us. We are not promised a trouble-free life, but that He will ultimately take care of us.

I took the step of professing my faith when I was seven years old, when I guess I felt like I was sufficiently intellectually aware to be able to grasp this concept in a way that made my faith, and profession of faith, real and sincere. The memory of that night (or at least my version of it) is still vivid in my mind. We were living in the Dominican Republic at the time, and the family was gathered around the dinner table, holding hands, as I prayed my prayer of acknowledgment of my faith and accepted Christ as my Savior and Lord of my life. I think my parents were crying, I know I certainly was, as they watched and listened to their youngest son take the steps that would seal the destiny of his soul. If they felt anything like I did when each of my children took this step, then they must have been crying. It’s not something a believing parent sees and not be overcome with emotion.

As I’ve lived my life (I’m 47 now) and my intellectual capacity has grown (though many of my friends would persuasively argue that my intellectual capacity barely exists at all), I at times have wondered what I would believe had I been born into a household that practiced a different faith or maybe not at all. Would I arrive at the same conclusions? Would I embrace or scoff at the notion of a virgin birth? I mean, depending on how one looks at it, the whole thing is pretty fantastic. I mean, there are a lot of things to believe in that run counter to everything tangible; that can be seen and touched. This must be why Paul writes in his beautiful letter to Romans, in the most beautiful chapter of the letter, Romans 8. Verse 24 states “For in hope we have been saved, but hope that is seen is not hope (faith); for why does one also hope for what he sees?”

Over the years I have met many believers who grew up believing one thing or nothing at all, and who eventually came to know the Lord, and in the process gave up family connections and friendships. They gave up thought processes to which they’d held firm their entire lives, to which they once clung to as a basis for living. It must have been a tremendous effort of will to make such a change; to place one’s faith for living in a completely different avenue.

The other aspect of the story of God’s love is the sheer wonder of it all. How can these things be? What do you mean, there’s a creator of all things but that will still listen to my prayers? He gave up his only Son whom He loved for me? Are you kidding? You expect me to believe that? How am I worth that? To quote a song by a Christian artist, “There must be some mistake, because I’m not worth the price you paid.” How can a sinful person like myself still have worth in the eyes of the Creator of all living things? How can He, who is perfect and whose glory is too pure for us to see, also be so patient with all my behaviors, and forgive me again and again and again?  What?

Ultimately, when I ponder these things, and little seeds of wonder (more harshly put, doubt) creep into my mind, I fall back on this belief. This world is not an accident. This creation is not a creation of chance. Think of the odds. Think of the beauty of nature, the sunsets, the spring blossoms, and the fall colors, the sunrises, the breathtaking beauty of rocky, snow-covered peaks, the sound of waves washing up on warm, balmy beaches, the feeling of breezes (where do they start and end?) going through your hair. Think of the human body, the miracle that it is. Think of the miracle of eyesight, of the brain, of the ability to hear, reason, choose, process information, speak, run, walk, feel, and smell. Think of the miracle of the womb, the place where life begins. There is almost too much to ponder.

Someone created this. To believe (and it is, in fact, a belief) that all of this world, our universe and the never-ending space (that alone is almost too much to ponder, where does space end?) that surrounds our universe, and the stars that are light-years away, and the miracles I described above is all an accident, an occurrence of pure chance, that all land mammals somehow derive from some slug living in the ocean decided he wanted to see what it felt like to be dry, to believe all that takes far more faith than it does for me to believe that God exists, that we are created for His purposes, that He designed all things for a specific purpose, and that He designed nature in its wonderful balance, and that He sent His son to atone for our sins. I place my faith in the Lord because He called me, and because I believe His Word, but also because, in its most base form, my faith is that there’s no way all of this just happened.

So that’s why I choose to believe what I believe. He gave us His Word in the form of the Bible and in His Son, and I believe it. Though my behavior would frequently give one the cause for doubt, I do my best to live my life by it. I choose to pursue the excellence in life that the Bible describes. I do my best to live in His will. It’s a great way to try to live.

Ultimately, everyone chooses to put his or her faith in something. Either a religious believer, an agnostic, or an atheist, all put their faith in something. Sure, no one really knows what happens after death, it really is a matter of faith. But I'll take my chances this way. There's no other way for me to live.