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Sometimes, I think my soul remembers Him before my mind does, like there is something ancient stitched into my chest that pulses without needing proof. I have never seen Him with my eyes, yet I have felt Him in places where no one else was. All I had to do was pray, and the Holy Spirit filled me with tears and love. The silence got too loud, and the world stopped making sense. When my breath came back after I swore it would not. There's a way to His absence that only makes sense if He is real. I believe not because I was taught to, or because I am afraid of nothingness, but because something inside me softens every time I call His name. I have doubted, screamed at the sky, stood at graves, and wondered why mercy skips some houses. Still, I've seen beauty rise out of ash too many times to call it a coincidence. I’ve felt peace when there was no reason for it. I've watched love survive things it never should have. Science explains the world's machinery. Faith explains it's music. There is a kind of math to the stars, yes, but there's also poetry in the way the ocean knows how to kiss the shore, then leave, only to return again and again like forgiveness. I don't trust Him blindly. I trust Him because the world without Him feels too empty to bear. There are nights when my prayers feel like voicemail messages left on an ancient line, even in silence, I find presence. Maybe He doesn't speak the way I want Him to, and the problem isn’t absence, but my volume. I don't need lightning to believe. I need the way my heart steadies when I say I'm not alone. Faith to me is not certainty. It's choosing to believe when nothing is guaranteed. If God were small enough to prove, He wouldn't be big enough to trust. I believe because even in my weakest moments, something keeps holding me up. Something invisible. Something real. God.
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