Do You See Him? By Al Blanton A few years ago, I had a conversation with an atheist about whether or not God exists. I’ll admit, at times, it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. I sat and listened with sadness as this man rattled off reasons why he didn’t believe that there was a God. He was adamant in his belief, and angry. He called God the “Big Sky Daddy” and equated Jesus with Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. Finally, he concluded his argument with the simple statement, “God doesn’t exist because there is no evidence that He exists.” That night, I was unable to move the needle even the slightest degree to convincing Him that God exists. Years have gone by since then, and I have heard nothing to the effect that there has been any change in his belief. For all I know, to him, God is still the Big Fake Sky Daddy in which billions and billions of people have been duped into believing. God has seen my tossings over this man and has heard my prayers. I have cried many tears as I have sat and thought about what satan has convinced this man to be true. How he can look at the world and not see God all around. How he can look at the complexity and wonder of the earth and not conclude God. How if, for just one moment, he could comprehend what Jesus did at the cross. For him. Yesterday as I was sitting in church, I began to think about all of the manifestations of God in our world, and I began to write down the evidence of God on planet earth. This is what I see… I see Him in the nobleness and goodness of a book written over the span of thousands of years with dozens of different authors from distant locations. I see Him in the polychromatic striations of the Grand Canyon, the unsurpassed brushstrokes of a sunset, the King James-inscribed, century-old verses on tall obelisk grave monuments, the dripping tendrils of Spanish moss, the gliding heron that lands on newly-wet shores, the profound accompaniment of love with the words “I do.” I hear Him in the haunting voice of Karen Carpenter, the crash of waves against the craggy coast, the tearful testimony of how God changed a life, in bagpipes playing “Amazing Grace.” I see Him in deer’s lope through the grassy black prairie, in a dog’s delight for his master, in the neon eyes of a cat, the gymnastic leap of a dolphin. I see Him in the cross atop a hospital, the angelic stained-glass dome, the stretching, bench-lined glens and gardens. I hear Him in the wrenching prayers of the faithful, in the drumbeat of liberated souls of hand-raised worshippers, the erudite Biblical scholar bearing down on his study. I see Him in the seed pots, the wildflowers that ask no one whether or not to grow, in goosebumps, and a child who claims to have seen heaven. I see Him in miracles. I see Him in selfless missionaries giving their time to people they may never see again, and in the transformation of dens of iniquity to dens of inspiration. I see Him in the uniqueness of fingerprints, snowflakes, people. I hear Him in the written word, the pastor bearing his soul before his congregation, the silence of monks in an Abbey. I see Him in the streets, the shelters, the mountaintops, and the knolls—there is no place that God does not inhabit. I witness Him in a young man’s call to evangelism, a young woman’s call to discipleship, a child’s amazement at Daniel in the Lion’s Den, in the old man’s dying wish, and a young mother’s living hope. I see Him in the massive Christian response to the Japanese tsunami, and the revival thereafter. I see Him in the change in C.S. Lewis, the honor of Tim Tebow, the wisdom of Billy Graham, and the courage of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I see Him in the billion crystals of sand on a sunlit beach, the complexity of a human kidney, in Mozart. I see Him in the man I am without Him and the man I am with Him. I see him in the death of my dad. But more than that, more than anything, I see Him in the crucifixion. I see Him as the nails were plowed into his hands, the iron crushing to powder the fanlike bones. I see it in the stripes that had landed across his body, making mincemeat of the flesh. In a thorny crown hauled down into the temples, scraping the skull. I hear it in the forgiveness despite the humiliation, wails, and injury. I see God in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. For us, Jesus Christ lived and died. He was everything God wanted us to see in Him. In the end, there is only one question that remains. Do you see Him?
Posted on: Mon, 05 Aug 2013 14:05:25 +0000
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