It's my life and I love it...most of the time.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

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.

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