Humility is the gateway to wisdom. You can’t pour new knowledge into a mind that is already convinced it holds all the answers. My journey, especially my search for God, has been a continuous cycle of learning, unlearning, and relearning. A profound sense of peace, a kind of heaven, emerges when you truly grasp how little you know about the universe. I’ve accepted that I don’t have all the answers. As my path grew more complex, I was humbled by the realization that I might never fully grasp the world’s intricacies. All I have is my intuition, some knowledge, and the patience to wait for a deeper understanding that can transform me. I know that in the presence of profound ideas and grand visions, all superficial pursuits quickly lose their appeal. I needed to listen and absorb all the knowledge I could get, filtering it with discretion while staying connected to God. So, I continued to attend Christian meetings and pray to whoever was listening, always keenly aware of both the curse of knowledge and the cost of ignorance.
Nevertheless, in the midst of my struggle, a deeper puzzle emerged: the persistence of evil. I never grappled with its existence; evil, in a way, felt natural. Pain is a fundamental truth of reality, and it’s our primary reaction to evil. What truly kept me awake at night was its encroachment and staying power. To break it down, a common saying is that “proper preparation prevents poor performance.” It’s a testament to how order requires active control, preparation and discipline. Yet, an insidious, opposing force seems to drive the hearts of people toward chaos and their baser instincts. I realized the devil isn’t in the details; evil is clearly visible. It manifests daily through the modern scourge of sexually gratifying content, where a force of pleasure appears in millions of bedrooms at once. Evil is what consumerism and the lure of money do, pulling you into an insatiable pursuit. Evil is the false, ungodly sense of pride and supremacy that gives the “haves” a sense of superiority over the “have-nots.” Evil is violence and bloodshed. I could continue indefinitely listing the different forms of evil that seek to destroy us all. And so I thought, if evil, or rather the Devil, exists, then God must as well, for it requires a truly godly amount of self-control to counter this force.
With a clear concept of the devil as an imaginary force that drives me toward my weaknesses and chaos, it was easy to begin viewing God as the opposite: the very concept of good. I began to see God not as a man in the sky, an arbiter of right and wrong, but as a fundamental force of good in the world that brings order and guides me away from the chaos that seeks to ruin my life. God is the spirit that brings order, that wants me to clean my room and guides me to do the most important things in my life. I therefore decided on something powerful: to align myself with the Highest Good. To me, this means making my thoughts, actions, and decisions consistent with the most ethical, compassionate, and beneficial outcome, not just for myself, but for others and the broader world. This means resisting evil, keeping clean, and clinging to good.
In my effort to fight my demons, I realized I needed more than just willpower; I needed a framework, a story bigger than myself, something that could explain why the battle between order and chaos felt so ancient, so universal. Nothing explains the struggle between the forces of good and evil like the Bible, revealing a higher power that wants to help me create heaven out of this hell we call Earth. Its history, its archetypes, and its timeless characters mirrored my own struggles—my temptations, my victories, and my failures. I began to read the Bible again; this time with a new outlook. It wasn’t just a book of rules; it was a mirror of the human condition, a map of the soul, and a living guide that turned the concept of God into something I could understand, interpret, and relate to.
Then I had a surreal experience that confirmed my new perspective. After a terrible day at work that brought me to tears (a painful moment of helplessness for any man), my sister read me a Bible verse. It was Psalm 73, and it felt as though God knew exactly what I needed to hear. Every word spoke directly to my experience, answering the questions that had haunted me. It was greater than any poetry I had ever heard. However, my sister left me with much more than a Bible chapter.
She brought me to a profound realization: I am not alone in this journey. My struggles are not mine alone to carry, but part of a long fight passed down through generations. My grandfather and father battled the same forces I battle, and the Bible, God, and the order that comes with faith helped them stand firm. What they gave me was not a burden, but a legacy. I realized that I am standing on the shoulders of giants, continuing a struggle that has been fought before me, moving the needle a little further toward enlightenment.