Starting at trees

There was a time when I lost my faith in the conservative Christian religion in which I’d been raised to believe. I had learned enough about other cultures, about other beliefs, and about science that I could no longer accept Christianity as truth.  I took a look at other religions, other belief systems, but none of them felt true to me either. 

And yet, even when I doubted the most, even when I struggled to believe anything, I still did believe one true thing:  There was Something out there. Something as real as my hands and feet, the house I lived in, the people around me. Something tangible and authentic and irrefutable. Something as real as trees. 

Whenever the despair of doubt would overwhelm me, I would look at a tree, and my faith would be restored. When I looked at a tree, I saw the Something that I called God. I would look at a tree, and I would reflect on the times I had talked to God throughout my life. I would remember the feelings I had then, and I would know with every fiber of my being that God is real. I didn’t know how, or who, or what God was. All I knew was that when I looked at a tree, I saw God.