It’s a very good place to start.
I sometimes wonder what it would be like not to believe in God. There are millions of people who don’t. I didn’t really grow up with any sort of meaningful faith, but I, on some level, always believed in God. I just… did.
So it’s strange to me that some don’t. I’m not even talking about the Christian Gospel here. That’s a whole ‘nother blog, a whole ‘nother lifetime of blogs really. I’m talking about folks who live their life with a pretext of meaninglessness.
Because, to me, the idea of meaninglessness cannot exist. It is, on some level, a kind of meaning. And the one who has decided that there is no meaning, no One who means, has in one sense provided for himself a kind of meaning.
We all need it. We all need the answer to this basic question. We all need this basic longing satisfied. We all need our fears assuaged.
Weird, right? To me, the minute this thought enters your mind, this question of meaning, of some sort of intelligent purpose to what we empirically observe, it’s all over. Who has lived a life without pondering this? No one. No one has gotten up every morning and just gone about their work like a lemming, mindlessly shoving food into their mouth and repeating the next day. We all have dreams. We all have hopes. We all have longing. Why?