How it first started, or the God question

My husband, let's call him Jack, and I were laying in bed one night after the kids had fallen asleep. He said he had some big questions he'd like to tell me about if I didn't mind him talking. I always feel like listening when he feels like talking, because I can never guess what's going on in his head.


"I don't know if I believe in God," is basically what he said. I'm not sure the exact wording, really. It shocked me, having never doubted, but it was more of the shock you get when you're not careful plugging something in an outlet, nothing more. Jack had struggled lightly with this question previously, once after my miscarriage and again as he watched family members with fertility struggles. "If there is a God, He's either random about whose lives He chooses to intervene in or He doesn't interfere with anyone at all."


Well, let me rephrase what I said about being shocked. It settled in like a very small buzz, but as the seriousness of his question grew, I felt a heavy weight settle in the middle of my chest.


The big problem was that Jack had a good point. We'd known so many faithful people that have been really sick and don't get any better. Or, if they do, it just takes the normal amount of time. Sometimes they die. We've prayed for a lot of these people, prayed our hearts out, alongside numerous others.


The other problem was that I knew God existed, and knew I couldn't prove it. We discussed the old argument that everything around us proves God is, but I quickly rejected that notion, having never adhered to it. I do believe that you can see God in everything around us, but you have to look with eyes already filled with faith. There are beautiful and scientific reasons for every creation; God being the origin of these creations is beautiful, too, but not always easy to recognize.


One of Jack's friends had told him a good story about why someone he knows believes in God. Actually, Jack's friend had heard it from his bishop, so I guess that means it's okay to pass around in sacrament meeting.


This bishop had been working with a circular saw at one point, but he'd been wearing his garments. The saw slipped and headed toward his thigh, but it fell away and didn't cut through his garments. That was the whole of the explanation, which apparently proved the validity of God as well as the truthfulness of the LDS church.


The querier responded that this explanation was insufficient; if the leg had been cut significantly but had stopped short of severing an artery, the bishop would have attributed that as a blessing from God and possibly the protection of the garments. If the artery had been severed but he had survived, again, it would have been a blessing from God. If, instead, the bishop had died, faithful loved ones would have said it was part of God's plan.


If any of the scenarios can lead to faith in God, then there is no proof that God was involved. You may feel grateful to God for any of those situations and be right in your love to Him, but they're insufficient in proving God exists or takes care of us.


As I listened to my husband, I had a mix of feelings: comfort in my faith, sorrow for his disbelief, compassion for his possible world without God, and, above all, patience for him to take what time he needed to sort through his questions.