“The truth is that our finest moments, are most likely to occur when we feel deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we step out of our ruts, and start searching for different ways or truer answers.”

- M. Scott Peck

People believe that I have given up on God, or that I believe God has given up on me. This isn’t entirely true. Some particularly tragic deaths in the recent weeks have churned me up into a veritable existential froth. I looked around, hoping for a pattern, a point, a sign that these things don’t happen spontaneously- that someone or something, somewhere, had a grip on things. But again, I came up from my grasping completely empty-handed.

I have a friend whose motto is “Everything happens for a reason.” I wish everyday that I believed that- that I could find some beautiful, over-arching theme, like a beautiful, though sometimes melancholy, melody where every note has a role, however short their stay. But I just can’t bring myself to that. For example- in high school, two girls hit a pole near my house. Both emerged from the badly mangled car fairly unscathed. But then the utility pole they hit fell and the wires electrocuted one of the girls. Why? What possible purpose can that serve? You cheat death at one turn only to be cut down mercilessly the next? Or what about the son of my mother’s co-worker- a motorcycle accident victim who came back from months and months of painful rehabilitation, regaining his mobility, his speech, after tireless dedication from his parents who stood by him every agonizing step of the way. He and his girlfriend break up. He steps in front of a train. How can that happen? All that hope, that effort, that love- gone in a single instant.

People think these things, and similar ones, have made me give up on God. I haven’t. Do I believe at the present moment that there is a God like the one described in the Bible? No. Have I stopped a relentless, desperate search for God? Absolutely not.

I have intensified my hunt for God. The more I am challenged by these experiences, the more I dedicate myself to finding a reason. I am far too stubborn to simply throw up my hands and live my life thrusting possibilities away from myself.

When a young woman who attends the same college as I do was killed by a car that jumped the sidewalk just as she left a hospital, I was shaken to the core. I can’t say- this happened for a reason- this is for the greater plan. I do not have the ability as yet to say- although I cannot understand, I accept that this must be for the best. That idea is contrary to every fiber of my being. There is no way this can be for good.

I want more than anything to find God. I want to see a plan. I want to see a reason. I don’t. Maybe I will.