A Challenge to the Unbelievers
by Juliana

In the beginning, you don’t even know they exist. It isn’t until those first tender leaves break through the soil that you’re aware there ever was anything besides the dark brown soil. Only a few days pass before a frail, green stem is seen lifting the leaves heavenward. It barely exists, and if it isn’t watered and taken care of, it will wilt into non-existence as quickly as it began.

Before the seedlings are a week old, you can see them lean toward the sun. The stems and leaves together, reaching with all their tender strength, move hungrily toward their source of life and light. Nobody ever told them they need the sunlight; nobody needs to. It is biologically built in. Without the sunlight, they would die. Instinct drives their search, in the same way it drives an infant to seek the comfort of it’s mother bosom.

Why is it so strange to us to consider that we have deeper, even more meaningful instincts within us that drive us to seek God? Perhaps once we are old enough to speak, dress ourselves, and carry on meaningful conversation, we feel that we’ve learned all there is to learn. A wise person senses this folly early. A fool perhaps never does.

Christ is the Light of the World. He is, literally and figuratively, the source of our light and life. I believe that our souls naturally yearn and hunger for His light, the same way a tiny seedling leans to be nearer the sunlight coming through a window. The seedling is never ashamed to acknowledge it’s dependency. Why do humans err so?

Perhaps you think I’m ridiculous. You say that I cannot prove God exists. You point your finger at me and self-righteously and proudly dare, “If there is a God, prove it!” Then you sit back and wait for me to bring you the evidence. Perhaps you’re right. But I will only accept your challenge after you accept mine:

Go to a tender seedling, only a few days old. Stand beside it and say to it, “If there is truly a sun in the sky, prove it!” And only after the seedling has the ability and power to bring you empirical truth that the sun shines above your head, only then will I accept your challenge to prove there is a God. Yes, you and I can see the sunlight. We can feel it’s warmth and see it’s rays, and the seedling does not even have eyes to see or hands to reach out to write. It seems the seedling has a great disadvantage.

Oh, human, what art thou to a God? Perhaps we have disadvantages, too.