A Matter of Faith

This morning I read a column by Leonard Pitts. That column was about his religious belief and why he believes. In short he states that he believes in God because nothing else makes sense. You can read the column for yourself, I am not going to criticize or explain his position. His column got me thinking, why do I believe?

When I was a child I believed because I was told to believe. I didn’t question authority much back then, I just did what I was told. For the record I was raised as a Catholic. While my family was not the most devout, my mother made sure that we attended church for both Christmas and Easter mass. I believe that this is the right terminology as I have not attended a Catholic service in more than twenty years. Anyhow, as I stated we would attend Christmas and Easter Mass every year. We didn’t attend much in between because my father was far from being religiously devout.

As you can imagine this created one heck of division in our home. As a child I idolized my father, I wanted to be like him when I grew up. At that time I didn’t realize how badly the alcohol affected his judgment. At the same time I wanted to please my mother. I could not do both of these at the same time. When we moved to Iowa I maintained attendance in church for several years before I gave in to the negative influences in my life. Shortly after my family moved to Iowa my mother was diagnosed with a terminal disease. I was devastated, I wondered how God could strike down someone so kind and caring but allowed abusive and deranged individuals to survive. This event shook the very foundations of my belief. As a direct result of this I began my very short road into self destructive alcoholism. When I turned 18 I dropped out of high school, at that time I could drink a case of beer in one evening without so much as feeling the effects. My tolerance of alcohol was so high that in order for me to reach the mind numbing drunkenness I had to drink more and more.

One of the first events that snapped me out of this destructive funk was the birth of my first niece. When Kay Lee was born nine years ago I saw some hope in my dark and dreary world. Then a year later my first nephew was born. I knew that I had to straighten my life out so that they would not be tempted to follow the same road that I traveled. As I slowly recovered from the alcoholic haze that I had surrounded myself with I looked around and realized that even though my mother was terminally ill, my family was closer than ever. It was then that I realized that God had a plan for her and that I was seeing it unfold before my very eyes. I saw the way that she beamed when she held her grandchildren. This reaffirmed the beliefs that I had suppressed for all those years.

Now as I grow older day by day, my beliefs and convictions get stronger each and every day. And each and every day I thank God for all the joy and happiness that he has so kindly blessed my life with. At the beginning of this post I posed the question why do I believe? It is simple really. Once I opened my eyes I could see the good works of God in everything around my, from my loyal and loving pets to my loving and devoted wife. I know that I would not have all that I have if God not feel me worthy. And for that I am humbled. I believe because I can see.