And just like that, winter is here. Today’s surprise snow-and-ice storm is a reminder to me that we are living on a planet, and in a world, that does not care one bit what I think. Life hurls along in a complicated and intricate beauty that far surpasses all of us in our ability to understand it, control it or tame it. You can spend hours examining one of those snowflakes under a microscope. Millions of those beauties will swirl, fall and melt away without any of us noticing them. It is all beyond us. And yet at this key moment, as we sip our coffee and look out at the blizzard beyond the warm comfort of our home, we realize that this drama can only be one of two things: either the complexity and glory of the world, with all its power and unstoppable nature, is utterly meaningless, or it is meaningful.
If there is no God, no infinite and personal Father, then this whole thing goes up with the wind. The blizzard is cold and bitter and meaningless. And I hate it as much as it hates me. Though, I can’t even say it hates me because it can’t hate. It doesn’t even know I exist. And my frustration with the fact that life is meaningless is drowned out by the bitter silence that tells me that it doesn’t care.
But if the glory points to a Maker who stands behind it, then the sudden change in weather, the millions of microscopic masterpieces, and my altered plans are not an empty chance. Even if I didn’t get to see any of the snowflakes up close, their beauty and significance do not escape his gaze. Every detail matters. And this screaming freight train that we call life is driven by one whose wisdom and might exceeds my imagination.
All other evidences aside, this is the world we live in. If you love, if you enjoy the day, if you see beauty and wonder in the world around you, you are subconsciously living in a meaningful world, a world made with a purpose. No matter how the atheist will lecture and prove his way against God, he will then proceed to enjoy the warm fireplace, the holiday lights and festivities, the smiles and the joy. This is not the world of his lectures. This is the world of my God.
The only difference is how and why we live in it. He lives and enjoys it on accident, despite his unrealistic beliefs. He has to set his convictions aside in order to live in the real world. I, on the other hand, enjoy it on purpose, through the energizing power of deep conviction. It doesn’t merely feel that it is good and beautiful. I can know it is. And in every sip of coffee, in every freezing dancing gust that blows outside my window, I am reminded of the love and beauty of the One who loved me and gave himself for me even when I enjoyed his world and pretended like He didn’t exist.