Do You Believe in God?
A good friend of mine is in a real battle for his life. He's battling a couple of forms of cancer. He's just 54 years old and he has five children ranging in age from 15 to 24. He's lived a good life, but understandably wants much more. He treats others with respect and has lived well - working hard every day.
The other day, fresh out of his most recent trip to the hospital, his 15-year-old son asked him if he believed in God.
"Of course," he answered. "You know that. Why would you ask me such a question?"
"I was worried about you," the young boy answered, "And I wondered why God would make you sick. I've been praying and praying, but I'm not sure God's listening."
"How did you answer that?" I asked my friend.
"I gasped," my buddy said. "I nearly choked to death on the tears in my chest, but I told him that God was still beside me and that God would see me through this."
"And you believe that?"
"One way or another," my buddy said. "He might not answer my son's prayers the way he needs them to be answered, but the answer will eventually be accepted."
"And you believe that?" I asked.
"I have to! What choice do I have?"
My buddy is doing all right. The last thing he wants is for anyone to feel sorry for him, but in the 12 or so years since I met him, it was actually the first time I'd ever heard him mention God and the afterlife.
So, I guess the best I can offer him, at this time, is my own special prayer. I'm right there with my buddy, God will listen, and one way or another, his family will be comforted.
The other day, fresh out of his most recent trip to the hospital, his 15-year-old son asked him if he believed in God.
"Of course," he answered. "You know that. Why would you ask me such a question?"
"I was worried about you," the young boy answered, "And I wondered why God would make you sick. I've been praying and praying, but I'm not sure God's listening."
"How did you answer that?" I asked my friend.
"I gasped," my buddy said. "I nearly choked to death on the tears in my chest, but I told him that God was still beside me and that God would see me through this."
"And you believe that?"
"One way or another," my buddy said. "He might not answer my son's prayers the way he needs them to be answered, but the answer will eventually be accepted."
"And you believe that?" I asked.
"I have to! What choice do I have?"
My buddy is doing all right. The last thing he wants is for anyone to feel sorry for him, but in the 12 or so years since I met him, it was actually the first time I'd ever heard him mention God and the afterlife.
So, I guess the best I can offer him, at this time, is my own special prayer. I'm right there with my buddy, God will listen, and one way or another, his family will be comforted.
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