Reflections on a Ridge

The past two years have been difficult to say the least.
The world as we know it has vanished and we now live in a different world.
During such times, usually once-in-a-millenium occurrence,
it is easy for people to get unhinged, disoriented, lost.
We lose our moorings and start questioning our long-held beliefs and paradigms.
The most basic question is: where is God?
Why did he abandon us?
Does he even exist?

I have been unhinged myself. Disoriented. Lost.
But I never questioned God’s existence through it all.
In fact, my belief in him even became deeper.

I always stand in awe before the grandeur and beauty of nature.
A clear night with the skies lighted by a billion stars.
Or a crescent moon in a heavenly dance with the planets.
Or the panorama of a verdant valley or majestic mountain ranges.
Or the blue sea meeting up with an even bluer sky in the distant horizon.
Or white clouds putting up a show with ever changing shapes and shades.
I always end up whispering a prayer of thanks to whomever created it all.
Always.

I love history, with all the twists and turns, the tragedies and the triumphs,
the laughter and the tears, the joys and all the pain.
It is an unfolding that somehow always have a happy ending,
where truth, beauty, goodness, and love eventually win. Always.
There will be tragic episodes, even endings.
But even in such situations, one sees human perfectibility
and the nobility of men.
Too consistent to be pure chance or coincidence.
Someone is writing the script.

Then, there is little inconsequential me.
My presence nor my absence would hardly make a difference.
No compelling reason why I should even be around.
And yet, here I am.
And because I am here, a whole lot of things are possible.
And if I weren’t, none of these possibilities would exist.
I often wonder why I am here at all.
The Lord of Creation, the Lord of History,
he has called me forth from nothingness to being.
How can I even entertain the thought he is not?

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