Sharing Our Faith: Will Dinwiddie

This World is filled with grief, corruption and Pain. History is written by greed and laziness. Faith is our only Solace. Love is our only hope. And unending Labor is our only reward.

Seems pretty bleak, doesn’t it?

I believe the secret to happiness is deciding to enjoy myself, even when in the depths of despair or crippled by fear or overwhelmed by anger. I remember being broken and exhausted, tired to the point of insanity. I heard the voice of God. I don’t remember what was said. I don’t even remember what it sounded like. But God’s voice rang in my ears and told me a joke, and I laughed and felt renewed.

Or maybe I was just hallucinating. Maybe the entirety of the Cosmos is just some kind of giant, chemical mistake. But I can’t believe that. A cynic would have an easier time convincing me my right arm doesn’t exist. I know God. Let me clarify: I don’t believe in God, I know God.

My God is not a Theory to be argued over by the learned. My God doesn’t fit in a box, or can HE be defined, or SHE be labeled. My God evolved and was intelligently designed. My God can create and lift the unliftable rock. My God is the Cosmos themselves and exists in every sub-atomic particle of it. My God has trillions of faces and all genders, whatever they may be…

And one of my favorite faces of God is the poor carpenter’s son, who walked the earth as a man and was executed like a wretched slave. In an era where gods rode in golden chariots, flinging lightning and having sex like rockstars, I worship a god that walked the earth as a common laborer and taught humility and compassion and love. This is love with the capital El, not a valentine or a cupid. This is the love of which I only get the briefest of glimpses. I might see it for a few moments when I look into my partner’s eyes. Maybe I feel a fleeting sketch of it when I hold an infant.

When I see this Love, when I feel it, I am standing as close to God as I can get. This is as much of God’s presence as I can handle. God may have given me the wondrous gift of pattern recognition, but not the capacity to see the WHOLE pattern. But God doesn’t need me to understand the Cosmos, or even understand Love, or to live selflessly. But God wants me to try, like that laborer’s son. And God wants me to be honest with myself when I fail. And God forgives me.