I must confess to a love/hate relationship with Dr. Gregory House. (Yes, I do know he's not real.) Most of the time I find him amusing and straightforward - cutting through all the politicking that goes on in a lot of work environments - but there are times he irritates me SO MUCH I want to turn off the show, which is a HUGE decision for me. I really hate to leave in the middle. Of anything. But tonight was one of those episodes. It was a random rerun - I don't watch it on a regularl basis - about a patient who had recently changed her life drastically and become strictly religious. The doctor's assessment was that she was suffering from guilt, or masochism, or was trying to commit suicide to get away from the life she chose. (He changes his mind about a dozen times as the show goes on.)
He spent a lot of time mocking the faith and rules the woman and her husband were adhering to and as I watched I became very much aware of how glad I am that I know there is a God.
I know there is someone watching out for me, someone who knows more than I about what is, and will be, best for me. I know there a reason why I follow "the rules" so devotedly, I know there is a place to go when this life is over, I have an eternal goal to be working toward.
I know this and though I can't "prove" it to anyone - I can't point to a specific time and say, "There. There is when I knew" - maybe I've always known - I can not deny that I DO know.
And I'll tell you why I keep sharing what I know, despite the jokes, the teasing, the snide comments, the rude insinuations, the mocking, laughing and dismissals.
Because, whether I am right or not, whether it changes anyone's life or not, knowing that there is a God makes my life happier, full of purpose and it gives me confidence to continue on.
This reminds me of a lesson I taught in college to a girl investigating the LDS church about eternal families. I was explaining that being a member of the church is a good thing because we believe in eternal families which means we will be together again after we die. She asked me if she wouldn't see her father - who had passed away - unless she joined our church. Now, I was young and stupid and didn't know how to answer that. Someone else took the discussion thread and I stopped talking. It wasn't until a few years later I realized what I had been trying to tell her was that of course she would see her father again, no matter what. But the knowledge of families being reunited after this life makes living easier, more comforting and there isn't such a pit of despair left behind when someone we love dies. Her life would be happier and she hurt less if she knew what I know.
This is me and I know.