Have you ever wondered if God exists?

I have many friends. There are believers. There are followers. There are those that do not believe at all. There are those that don’t know what to believe.

I have spent plenty of time contemplating this subject over the years. At times I have questioned. At times my belief has come easy. Today’s blog is not intended to force my views upon anyone. With permission, I want to relay a story that recently happened in our extended family. I will let you come to your own conclusions. I do want to extend an invitation to anyone that may read this. If you have questions about what I share today, I will gladly talk to you. Please ask.

The Friday before Labor Day, our step-brother had some welcomed visitors. His second oldest daughter had come to help him with a project. She brought her two oldest along. They love to play at their pawpaw’s.

As they worked, the oldest child came through the garage. They realized they did not hear number two son. Our step-brother offered to go look. His daughter soon heard his cries to God. As she came running, she saw that her dad had pulled her son from the swimming pool.  

The details of what happened next are secondary to the outcome. Suffice it to say that our step-brother was able to resuscitate his young grandson from a lifeless form. The family believes with all of their heart, that God was with them. He kept our step-brother calm, and able to think clearly, as he worked diligently to breathe life into the small body that lay there.

After an overnight stay in the hospital, that small boy left able to talk, and laugh, and smile. He undoubtedly touched many lives during his time there. He went from unresponsive to communication and stimulation, to hugging nurses by morning and figuring out he could get out of bed if he said he had to go the bathroom. This was not at all what the hosptial staff expected after the initial assessment.

For me, here is where the story causes my heart, and brain, and soul to pause and reflect even more. As they left the hospital the next morning, that precious little boy told his mom, “Jesus come.” She asked him, “Who came?” He said, “Jesus.” She asked again, “Who came?” He said, “Jesus!” They asked him, “Did you see Jesus?” And as small children do, he covered his eyes and didn’t answer.

Sometimes the women is from Mars and the man is from Venus.

I was lucky enough to get to see The Help…twice. The first time, my husband took me for my birthday. Now, this is not the typical type of movie choice for him. But he realized a few years ago, that if I could go see his kind of movie all the time, he could sit through one of mine. Don’t tell anyone, but he even likes them sometimes!

I gladly went to this movie with my husband, and appreciated that he would do that for me. I found myself, however, thinking “he is hating this” or “uggg, I wonder what he thought about that”. It was a bit distracting. In all fairness to Roger, some of my distraction could also have come from reading the book first. I kept noticing those things that just aren’t possible to include when writing a screenplay based on a novel.

Which brings me to my second viewing. A group of girlfriends wanted to go see it after work one day. I didn’t really want to spend another $7 for a matinee, but finally decided to just go. I did want to spend time with my friends. I’m so glad I did. From a movie perspective, it was an entirely different experience.  Rather than worry about what my friends were thinking of the movie, I could just sit and enjoy their laughter and empathize with their tears.

As we left the theater, walking down the long, hall to the exit, I expressed how glad I was that I had come. It was just different seeing it with women, and that they understood how the movie made me feel.  The conversation quickly turned to husbands. We discussed how they think, and they never think “this” way, but just presume we will take care of things. And we all chimed in “because we’re the help!”

While this is all well and good, and true at times, I have no doubt that God made us this way for a purpose. I’m just not always sure of what that purpose is. He made us different because he knew it would take two types to raise a family. Perhaps he made it so we wouldn’t easily have to understand each other because good things come when we work at it. It is work to grow a marriage and get to a point where we truly understand each other.

I know in our marriage, we often find that we are not atypical. Roger was often more compassionate when a child was hurt, while I was the “suck it up” one. Yet, I was more understanding when they were small, and he relates much better with them as teenagers and young adults. Along the way we have finally learned to know where each other is on a matter and how to work together as parents.

It is easy to fall into a trap of generalizations. We can’t focus so much on what society says. It is always fruitful to look at what the word of God says and focus on those tenets. The bible shares considerable expertise on relationships. All we have to do is open the book up, and take it all in.