Some time ago, I exchanged some correspondence with a young atheist about what it means to say that I am a Christian and whether that path is one worthy, let alone true, for any human being (the conversation was largely framed by his questions and challenges – it’s not where I would have started if the choice were mine).
Pondering yesterday’s beautiful, if gloomy day-time skies and last night’s wowing full moon, I was reminded of our conversations, a part of which on my end went like this:
If you and I stood side by side at a sunset, we would both be moved.
Even if we were both thinking on the dust particles that caused what we saw, the beauty of what we saw would move us emotionally or spiritually or both. Even if no words passed between us, we would still have shared and communicated something of great value.
I experience that beauty of shared experience with other Christians almost every day – in prayer, in holding the hand of the dying, in watching my aunt Bonnie slipping so quietly and graciously from this life, in a marriage ceremony where two lives are joined together as one, in songs of praise, in laughter and in tears.
Why am I a Christian? Because I have stood on that holy ground time after time after time, knowing that God was there with us. As I said before, I'm a lucky gal.