I am not naturally religious. I easily identify with the atheist who considers the world’s immense suffering gives little evidence of a superior being, or the postmodernist who sees Christianity as one religion among many, and adapts or invents one according to personal logic.
Or, like the secularist, it is easy to accept that some higher power brought the world into being, but life generally belies the fact that God is still involved in our sorry state. Then I’d be a practical atheist—believing in God but living as though He didn’t exist.
So why am I a Christian? Those who lack the experience of a Christian home may inherit a scepticism that inoculates them from considering Christ’s claims. I grew up in a Christian home that gave me a view of Christianity from the inside and I lacked the disadvantage of the popular critical view.
Eventually, I discovered the Bible carried its own authority and gave the only meaningful explanation of life as we know it. Further, it squarely faces the problem of evil and provides a remedy, for its cause and its cure. All other philosophies pale in comparison.
But emotion still played a part. At ten years of age, the crucifixion of Christ impressed on me the depth of God’s love compelling me to decide for Him. The advancing years have proved the Bible’s wisdom and authenticity.
Today, happily married for fifty eight years, I enjoy the companionship of a close and growing family, a continuing purposeful life and confidence for the future, here and hereafter. I place my gratitude firmly in God who drew me into His family and His legacy of wisdom for life.