One More Day Alive

Every Time We Fall

I wish I had a buck for all the times I have been challenged by non-believers to prove the existence of God.  But instead of growing frustrated with their skepticism, now I give them what they want – ironclad evidence!

           

I tell them that I will never forget the day when I met God, once and for all proving the existence of the Almighty Himself, not that I really needed to prove anything.  After all, faith itself has usually carried me through all the confusion and calamities of my life. But it was still quite incredible to stand right there in the presence of the irrefutable evidence of Him in all His glory and greatness, His love and support.

 

I can’t help but be filled with uncontrollable joy as I sit here thinking about that memorable warm summer day so many years ago and the monumental discovery I made. After all, so many people have debated the existence of God for hundreds, no thousands, of years, since the dawn of man.  And there I was sitting on the biggest discovery of all time right there in front of me. 

 

Now, I never really gave much credence to the debate over God’s existence in the first place because I felt Him everywhere all the time looking out for me, picking me up when I fell flat on my face and teaching me how to live.

 

But still for Him to be there that day right in front of me substantiating beyond the shadow of a doubt His presence in the world was nothing short of a miracle.  I was so excited that I could barely keep my balance, nearly tumbling over in front of Him.  But His calm steadied me.

 

Just when I thought I had composed myself, my excitement once again got hold of me, and I found myself falling helplessly to the floor not once, not twice but over and over again.  Each time, I reached out for Him screaming in terror.  And he never deserted me, always catching me before I fell too far and wiping the tears from my face, a face so childlike next to his wise and weathered brow, as he told me He would always be there for me.

 

As the day wore on and the sun began to set, I soon grew accustomed to his kind company and trusted Him implicitly.  So when He told me that it was time for me to ride off on my own, I grew angry.  I didn’t want Him to leave my side.  I yelled at Him like a child speaking out of turn forgetting whose presence I was in. 

 

But He forgave me and assured me I could do it on my own.  But more importantly, He told me that He loved me and would always be there for me, even when I thought I was all alone.

 

I was speechlessly in awe of his love. But later that day after all the excitement was done, I did manage to speak my thoughts clearly for the first time.

 

I said, “Thank you Dad,” as we wheeled my shiny new two-wheeler into the garage, and then he silently threw his big, strong arm around me as he did so many times before and since.

                       

So I say, once again, there I was in the presence of the irrefutable proof of God and his unconditional love that day — the day my dad taught me how to ride a bicycle for the first time.

 

Thank you God, for giving me my earthly father to act as your proxy and your proof that I am your child and that You will always be there to catch me when I reach out and fall.

 

And to all you fathers, Happy Father’s Day!

 

Chris Benguhe is the author of “Overcoming Life’s 7 Common Tragedies: Opportunities for Discovering God” available at Amazon.com