This past Thanksgiving, 2016, at a large gathering I leaned over to the man sitting next to me and whispered this question, “Do you think our salvation is a true actual personal experience or merely a belief system that we cling to out of desperation?”
I have always been drawn to people who wrestle with their faith.
The person who asks the question that every other person in the room is thinking.
The individual who struggles with the words of the holiest book and the actions of their own life.
The one who cries for purity of the soul from a place of darkness within their own heart.
And through my wrestling with my own faith in recent days, I found myself on my knees, praying to a loving God for the life of another.
I did not ask God to allow us to keep that life.
I prayed that God would take it.
To take that life into His own caring and loving presence, into His strong arms and hold it until all danger had passed.
That the days that had been planned for this life before time began would be fully and completely realized.
That as God touched this life, this life would in turn touch others, pointing them to this same loving and powerful God.
That God would not let go…
…and that His plan for that life be established…
…and I found that in a moment the depths of my doubt was overcome by the depths of His love.