What if There Really Isn't a God?

Laura, you asked for it...literally.

As one of your non-Christian readers, I was thinking it might be interesting to hear your thoughts about how much of your daily life and choices are shaped specifically by being Christian (as opposed to, say, just having a strong desire and commitment to be a good person and raise your children to be responsible and kind).

For some reason, that question reminds me of my favorite assignment from high school philosophy (I went to a Christian school), when Mr. Horton asked, "How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck were....a Marxist, a Secular Humanist, etc." Man, I really loved that class!

But seriously (back to Laura), it's not a simple question. I'm pretty sure you know that or you probably wouldn't have asked it.

In the same high school class I just mentioned, on the first day of a new semester, our brilliant teacher looked around the room of preacher's kids and former homeschoolers and said, "What if there really isn't a God?"

And then we wrote like mad for about twenty minutes.

My point in telling you this is that, by the end of my paper, I had concluded that there was absolutely no sound reasoning behind proper behavior if there indeed wasn't a God (or if one didn't believe in God).

I no longer feel this way, or at least not as strongly.

When I give a Big Mac to a homeless man, I do so in Jesus' name. But the smile that crosses his face would still be valuable to me if his soul was never to extend beyond this world, and if there was no eternal reward for my good deed. It just wouldn't be as valuable.

When I, as a Christian, see someone in pain, I automatically weigh that pain according to whether it is temporary or eternal. I hurt for people where they are, in their temporary pain. But the thought of someone dying without ever knowing my Savior...the thought of a fellow human being, eternally separated from the love of Jesus...that is often more than I can physically bear. Which, I suppose, is why I cherish the opportunity to write this post.

The plain truth of the matter is that I don't know what my life would look like if it was not being lived for Jesus. I don't fully want to know. This morning I had a short, fraying fuse during school time with the kids. When they started missing the answers to questions they definitely know, and I felt a surge of Mommie Dearest coming on, I buried my head behind a book and quietly whispered, "Help. I really don't know what is wrong with me this morning, but I know I need more of You."

I don't want to know what life would be like without a tight grip on my Savior's lifeline. Because I need Him, all day long. I am utterly, helplessly and wonderfully dependent on Him. And I never, not for one second, have to be strong apart from Him. He makes me feel child-like, accountable, forgiven, seen, safe, loved, feminine and lovely. He allows me to walk steadfastly on surfaces as unpredictable as water, as long as my eyes remain fixed on Him.

When I can't find the car keys, I ask Jesus. When He reminds me where they are, I thank Him.

When I couldn't find a love for my husband after his rejection and betrayal, I asked Jesus. When He reminded me of His plan for marriage, I thanked Him.

On my very worst day, I still know without a doubt that when my life here is over and done, I will live eternally with Him. And so, on my very worst day, I have a reason to laugh and dance.

It is indescribably important to me that my children grow up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Because I know Him. Because I truly believe that life is not worth living without Him. Or, to be more precise, life isn't being lived without Him.

If you had a deaf son, you would long for him to hear. If you had a blind daughter, you would hope beyond hope for her sight. I am truly grateful for my children's lives, but I want them to hear; I want them to see. And most importantly, I want them to have purpose.

In this life and the next.

My daily life is Jesus; He is my daily Bread. Christianity is not simply a religion for the hard times (although we have all seen it treated, and been guilty of treating it, as lightly). Christianity is an everyday, moment by moment, opportunity to pick up a cross and fall in line behind the King of Kings. And simultaneously, it is the privilege of casting all of our cares upon The Savior of the World. It's mysterious and exciting, even though it often feels quite the opposite.

If this life were the end for me, I imagine that everything would be very different. I certainly wouldn't be happy living on little and never seeing or grasping the riches of the world. But, because this world is only the beginning, and such a very brief stopover before my real life begins, I want nothing more (or I endeavor to want nothing more) than what will be of eternal benefit to myself and to others.