Status: To be revived soon... =)
Hell Found Me (Then Lost Me, Too)
1st: Believe It Not
"Do you believe that God loves you?"
I scoffed at Arvin's words. "You know I'm an atheist, Arvin," I said as I typed my plantilla* with my laptop.
"I know," he replied after taking a sip of his cappuccino, "but we don't need eyes to see if He's real. All we have to do is have faith in Him."
I took my flash drive from my bag and plugged it into the USB port. "So you mean your God can't show a proof of His existence?" I asked with one eyebrow raised.
"You need not search the whole earth for a proof," Arvin answered as calmly as before. "The things that happened and are happening, the people and the things around us, you and me, are the evidences that there's a God indeed."
I shut down the laptop. "OK, but where is He? Why don't we see Him? If it was true that the people in the Bible saw Him for real, why doesn't He show Himself these days?"
"Because the Bible itself says we can't see Him without holiness."
I scornfully smiled. "Holiness? Nowadays, it's hard for people to be holy, Arvin."
"Yes, it's hard. But if we ask Him to forgive our sins, we can be made holy, too."
"OK, then. God, I'm sorry. Now I want to see You," I mocked. "For real, that is." I laughed. Arvin just stared at me.
I sipped the last of my venti latte. "I'm sorry, Arvin, but I just don't buy your Jesus stuff, or whatever they are," I apologized.
"Just remember that God loves you, even if you don't believe in Him," Arvin responded soberly.
"Spare me the drama. Time to go back to work."
Moments later...
As I watched my students take their midterm examinations, I thought of the talk Arvin and I had at the coffee shop. Many times when we're together, he'd talk to me about God. Although he knows I do not believe that the God he adores so much exists, and no matter how many times I'd question and/or make fun of his faith, he just won't stop "sharing God's Word" to me. Oh, the Jesus Freak that he is.
But despite of our religious difference, we are the closest of friends. Among my colleagues, he's the only one who could get this close to me. He knows almost everything about me, and he's with me wherever I go (unless it's a rock concert or anywhere he may be tempted to drink). He's the only one I can talk to without him judging me, and he's patient with me. And like me, he's one of the youngest professors here in the University of Chicago. It's seldom hard for a 27-year-old college instructor to get along with his chronologically advanced co-teachers.
I looked at my wristwatch. "Everybody finished?" I asked the studentry. A soft chorus of "Yes, Sir" followed.
I told them to pass their papers and dismissed them afterwards. And as I walked to my next class, my thoughts drifted back to Arvin. Yes, he's my best friend. But I don't think I can believe God the way he does.
I scoffed at Arvin's words. "You know I'm an atheist, Arvin," I said as I typed my plantilla* with my laptop.
"I know," he replied after taking a sip of his cappuccino, "but we don't need eyes to see if He's real. All we have to do is have faith in Him."
I took my flash drive from my bag and plugged it into the USB port. "So you mean your God can't show a proof of His existence?" I asked with one eyebrow raised.
"You need not search the whole earth for a proof," Arvin answered as calmly as before. "The things that happened and are happening, the people and the things around us, you and me, are the evidences that there's a God indeed."
I shut down the laptop. "OK, but where is He? Why don't we see Him? If it was true that the people in the Bible saw Him for real, why doesn't He show Himself these days?"
"Because the Bible itself says we can't see Him without holiness."
I scornfully smiled. "Holiness? Nowadays, it's hard for people to be holy, Arvin."
"Yes, it's hard. But if we ask Him to forgive our sins, we can be made holy, too."
"OK, then. God, I'm sorry. Now I want to see You," I mocked. "For real, that is." I laughed. Arvin just stared at me.
I sipped the last of my venti latte. "I'm sorry, Arvin, but I just don't buy your Jesus stuff, or whatever they are," I apologized.
"Just remember that God loves you, even if you don't believe in Him," Arvin responded soberly.
"Spare me the drama. Time to go back to work."
Moments later...
As I watched my students take their midterm examinations, I thought of the talk Arvin and I had at the coffee shop. Many times when we're together, he'd talk to me about God. Although he knows I do not believe that the God he adores so much exists, and no matter how many times I'd question and/or make fun of his faith, he just won't stop "sharing God's Word" to me. Oh, the Jesus Freak that he is.
But despite of our religious difference, we are the closest of friends. Among my colleagues, he's the only one who could get this close to me. He knows almost everything about me, and he's with me wherever I go (unless it's a rock concert or anywhere he may be tempted to drink). He's the only one I can talk to without him judging me, and he's patient with me. And like me, he's one of the youngest professors here in the University of Chicago. It's seldom hard for a 27-year-old college instructor to get along with his chronologically advanced co-teachers.
I looked at my wristwatch. "Everybody finished?" I asked the studentry. A soft chorus of "Yes, Sir" followed.
I told them to pass their papers and dismissed them afterwards. And as I walked to my next class, my thoughts drifted back to Arvin. Yes, he's my best friend. But I don't think I can believe God the way he does.
♠ ♠ ♠
* PLANTILLA is the term for a college professor's "lesson plan", as distinguished to that of a high school/elementary school teacher. I just heard it from a professor in our school but I don't know if there's such a word. I welcome your correction/s, if there are any.Praise God for the first chapter! PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU GET TO READ THIS so I would know how the story goes (unless you really don't have a comment). Next one already written on my notebook and is coming here soon. =)