How do I know there is a God?
Published 11/24/21, many years after the fact.
God the Father came to me at age 10. Date: sometime in 1962. Time: between 8 and 8:30pm. Place: home in bed. Diary entry: none. (I never kept one.)
I was impatiently waiting for Tom, my brother, age 16, to finish reading and turn off the light.
What happened, happened faster than the blink of an eye.
The Father presented Himself to me.
It was not a vision, not a sensation.
I just knew Him.
In that same moment, I knew myself. In a sense, and though there was much more growing-up to do, I had moved from childhood to manhood. It’s true.
That was it … very brief. I never told anyone at the time. It didn’t seem right to do that, and who would believe me or think it was significant? Even now, I hesitate because it is so personal, and I still feel as if I am violating God’s privacy. Perhaps, writing about this event will help someone else start to approach belief, although I suspect God will make the first move.
I will try to explain the circumstances. The father I had longed for had just moved us to another house. I knew him from age seven, but it was not until he married my mother when I was 10 that we were united.
He was the first man to love me … as is … and I loved him back with everything I had to give. He liked my company.
No one can appreciate that fact unless he or she has been, or had been, looking for a father.
Was it a force majeure or did Dad model a father’s love? I think the latter.
Only then could God the Father enter the picture, and He planned the whole thing. Of this, I am more certain than anything else.
Perhaps, some time I will write about how the other Two showed up. Not now.
If you think I’m crazy, I don’t care. If you think I’m lucky, you’ve got it right.