And here, this friend believed he would have done a better job arguing the point, and Pasquale was his ace in the hole. I don’t say that to put this friend down, I say that to highlight the point of his own statement- Christians appear so unarmed and unprepared to explain the faith that they hold, to the very point that it appears laughable far too often, and helps no one.

The reason this saddens to me is because, as a Christian believer who has had so many wondrous and unbelievable interactions with the Living God for myself (and so, simply cannot deny what I know even if it were to cost me my life), and having been rescued from a life of utter horror, pain and death by this same God, it kills me that so few know how to reasonably put forward the basis for that which they believe. It’s almost as if it’s an after thought and not the primary mission it’s meant to be.

I mean, what is more important, if you see a fire and, perhaps, your neighbor is asleep in the burning house, than to go in and get him out before it kills him? I can’t think of anything more Godly or more Christ-like, nor more important than that. And that is not to stress any point at all about Atheists, but rather, to highlight how remiss is the so called “Fireman”. Aren’t Christians to go forth on the “Great Commission” and spread the good news to every corner of the world? How do you do this without a well considered testimony that others can relate to, and some very convincing arguments that others can refer to?

I’m going to write something about all this business so that perhaps someone else can begin a new journey into the glory that was intended for all men to share. It’s an ugly tale, full of pain and grief, but it is my tale, and I own my own pain. No one, not even God Himself can take that from me, though He has healed me from its worst debilitations. But that I live, that I still breathe, and that I now thrive, He owns this truth, and not I.

The only thing I would urge you worthy men, is not to make the mistake of adjudging the perfection of the Creator based on the flaws of the created. That, too, is about as logical as faulting an ant for building a mound instead of the Colosseum. SOME of the evidence for God can be found in SOME men, but the ultimate source is Himself. Who else here dares to look into that invisible place? I have looked. I have also paid dearly for that inquiry, on top of the already unbearable pain that was my life. But that truth takes courage as well as sanity and logic, and the faint of heart will not long remain in the light of life because they will bail when the price gets too high.

But perhaps it was a benefit to me that I was reckless, fey and feral. I came at God expecting to find a way to kill Him, as if I actually could. I had respect for no man and no concern for any life, especially my own. Maybe there is an element of illogical behavior involved in discovering the truth. Maybe you have to be a little crazy to meet the truth head on. Maybe logic is a stumbling block instead of a stepping stone. I don’t know. I just hope no one ever has to find out the way I did.

I am whole today in a strange sense, but my scars glare at me like a hospital patient who’s suffered 90% burns over his entire body. There is nothing pretty left about me. So, what have I got to lose by telling you Jesus loves you enough to cream me and allow my life to be destroyed, just so I can tell you so? This is ILLOGICAL to me, just like Christ’s pain on the Cross. I have to wonder- wasn’t there a kinder way to do this?

But again, I OWN it. No one can ever destroy me again because I am dead. I am Garapan of the Chamurri’s. At the very least, this I’ve gained- I fear nothing, not death, not life, not man, and not any angel or demon in hell. That’s more than what I had, anyway. May you men find even more, than this. May you find the fullness of life, instead. This is what I hope for all men.

There is too much loss already. Too much pain. I could almost apologize for this often ugly life but God doesn’t need my defense nor my opinion. And like how many men really truly feel, I often hate God. But in truth I don’t actually “hate Him” hate Him. I just hate how the suffering of men, especially mine, doesn’t ever really seem to cost Him anything. But somehow I know I’m wrong, so I just push past myself and go on with what is real. This is real, men. This is honest. This is actually all He asks.

Peace

“If it turns out that I’ve been wrong all along, and there is in fact a god, and if it further turned out that this kind of legalistic, cross-your-fingers-behind-your-back, Clintonian hair-splitting impressed him, then I think I would choose not to worship him anyway.”