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worth1000.com, fark.com, and a dash of CNN and BBC news with a sprinkling of accuweather.com have pretty much been a big part of my free time. I decided recently to reduce the amount of frivolous surfing to retain time for profitable endeavors, but time has its way of running away without me being aware. So, here I am with a new post for the first time in months. I do exist, but nursing school with other pursuits has kept me busy.

Middlesweet just wrote me a note saying that she would like to play with me if I can find the time. I don't come home anymore until after the three are asleep during the week because I am having difficulty getting my work hours in around classes and clinicals. I constantly remind everyone that I have less than eleven months left in school, but to my family it seems like forever. My middle child seems to have grown weary of Daddy being gone. I certainly agree with her sentiments.

It isn't that my wife doesn't do a good job. In fact Wonderful is constantly working miracles with our children. It is difficult for her to adjust to handling all this herself when I was able to chip in just a year ago, but with God's grace she is able to provide a loving home even though immersed in a stressful situation. In spite of my wife's valiant overcoming it is obvious that a Daddy is still an important part of this family.

I guess one example would be from one night two weeks ago after I had just settled in the living room with Wonderful when I heard the oldest's door creak open. It is a firm rule in our home that when the children are put to bed they are not to come back out for any reason (we allow a rare case-by-case exception). When the tearful eyes peeked around the corner I had put on my sternest look available. "What are you doing out of bed?" After a few sniffles he choked out "I need to talk to you in private." "Why?" (I had to stay firm, even with a few tears on his face) After a little discussion I agreed and led him back to his room where I directed him back under his covers. "What's going on?" I asked in a gentler tone because he was back in bed.

"For some reason I thought in my heart that God might not be real..." he trailed off. My wife and I have made it our goal to raise godly, sensitive children who will make a difference in the world as they unite their lives with God's plan. To have a child question God's existence when only eight years-old was certainly not part of our plan. Of course he could be stalling on having to go to bed and getting Daddy time, but he knew the penalty for this behavior. Besides, I know that once this fella gets a thought in his mind he obsesses over it until he goes nuts over it. It seemed that this was what had happened. "Why did you think you had this thought?" "I don't know. It just came up." An eight year-old doesn't generally have the capacity for understanding the full ramifications of denying the existence of God so I knew that the problem wasn't the doubt, but the obsession. The question I dealt with was how to lay a foundation that will hold up with future doubts, for doubts will come.

I myself trusted my father's every word about God until one day in my mid-twenties all the philosophy he taught me no longer held up under my scrutiny. I realized then that I had a "second-hand faith" that no longer served me. This is my admission of a laziness and immaturity that I am ashamed of. I needed to validate my faith much sooner, but I didn't. I hope to challenge my children enough while they are still home that they are forced to have their own faith to surround them when they barrel out alone into the world as young adults or older teenagers. I have heard that doubt is the Devil's tool, but I have rejected this belief. Doubt is God's tool to show us what we really believe. If we reject doubt, or, even worse, fear doubt, we refuse to see God in His fullness. I love to think of Elijah hidden in the cave while the power of God showered earth, rocks, and heat all around him. God did not answer Elijah's doubt with as strong rebuke as one would expect. Rather a still, small voice came along and presented evidence of God's foreknowledge and wisdom. Throughout Scripture God met the doubting minds that truly searched for truth with the tender delight of a father teaching his son the basic tenets of the family business. The fool insists there is no God while the wise man asks how to know God. This line of question often begins in answer to a doubt.

I gave up on God for several months while I grappled with the questions of faith that had surrounded me. I pondered those months of doubt while sat there with my son and I wondered what foundation would yield lasting results. I obviously was not going to discourage his doubts. I wasn't going to say that my faith should be good enough for him. I don't think creation has enough evidence to prove God's presence to the doubting mind. Sin has twisted God's beauty too much for the doubter to see His loving hand. Man's philosophy is too full of questions for it to answer such an important question firmly.

God let me falter in my own mind wrapped in turmoil until one day I found myself left with no sense of value in my life, and God's voice whispered in my heart asking me why I cared if He was real. In a flash I understood that it wasn't that I needed to argue with my doubts, but that I needed my doubts to show me that I cared. God had placed in my heart a desire for Him that I couldn't deny, and that work of the Holy Spirit is the basic proof I need of God's existence. This won't work to prove God to anyone else though. I have decided that proving Himself is the Holy Spirit's job anyway. You can't escape God when He has chosen you.

So I turned to my son and asked why he cared. "I don't know. I just want to believe that God is real." "Who made you feel that way?" "God?" "What do you think?" "YES" I don't like to rely on feelings for faith, but some feelings are undeniable. Those who have felt the tug of God on their hearts know what I mean. Others who are His children will know in His time. "Daddy, I guess Satan was making me feel that God wasn't real." "No, I don't think Satan wants you thinking about God. I guess God was asking you if you believed in Him so that you could see how much you cared. Do you care?" "I DO!" "Then pay attention- God may be setting you up for another lesson soon."

I don't know how much my son really comprehended of this whole thing, but as I walked away after another hug and kiss I felt the invisible hand on my shoulder and heard the still, small voice asking "Can you believe in the whirlwind of your doubts?" and I answered "I believe, Lord, help thou my unbelief."

I have so much more to learn.