I have gone to my Lord full of pain and misery, beseeching please, please, and somehow I am emptied of suffering. I don't know how He does it. Unbelievers, I know, have theories of psychological phenomena that go with the act of praying, of how we make our own relief and such, how this and this is an explanation for that and that. I know, because I used to be like such. But there came a time for me when I had nowhere to go, when there was no one who could possibly understand what my problems were, when I was so utterly alone. I remember this devout atheist being so full of desperation that I fell prostrate to the world, clasped my hands and prayed, "Guide me." It was to no one in particular, no specific higher power. But it is still with me, I think — that prayer. I have been guided, and am still guided, by that which listened that desperate day.
Explain it away, if you want. But if you would truly like to make an accounting for all the things in my life that have happened to me, the explanations would run on and on, invoking theories of man as to this phenomenon and that, why the things happened, and why there is no reason to believe anything otherworldly played a part. I, instead, say merely that my prayers were answered. It's simpler, and it makes more sense to me to see things that way. I have gone to my Lord full of confusion and woe, understanding nothing of why, and somehow, I begin to sense in me a reason for being. Telling me in scientific terms what endorphins are reacting in my nervous system is like explaining the Mona Lisa to me in terms of the chemical composition of the paint. Think me not ignorant that I believe. I have my reasons.
Mary
9:49am friday, 7th may
Your words went straight to my heart and mind at the same time as I pursue my philosophical inquiries and live in an overwhelming world.You are beautiful. Thank you.
Mary