Gary Young said:A lot of people out there today don't believe in God, our Creator.
Plenty of folks claim we just evolved from monkeys.
And some even say everything happened by total accident.
First off, nothing happens by accident. Everything happens according to God's will.
I mean, how are people supposed to know if God exists if they won't listen to His messengers?
Most people know atoms exist, right? So how do they know?
Nick hasn't seen an atom in his life, yet we all know they're there, right??
Most of us know about microwaves too. We can't see them, but we know they're real...
Don't we?
Yet most of these people hear about God and just refuse to believe.
Does it really have to be visible for it to be real?
It really all boils down to how you define God—and more importantly, whose version of God you're actually talking about!
It’s funny how people talk these days—you hear it everywhere, from casual brunch conversations to those late-night deep dives on social media—this absolute certainty that we all just popped out of some primate lineage. It’s one of those things people throw around like they’ve mastered the complexities of biology, acting as if the whole "humans evolved from monkeys" thing is just common sense you pick up over a cup of coffee. Honestly, it’s enough to make you roll your eyes. I remember sitting in a lecture hall back in college, listening to someone try to argue this exact point with such unearned confidence, thinking they had cracked the code of existence, while the rest of us were just trying to figure out if we had enough time to grab a burger before the next seminar. People love a simple answer to a massive mystery, I suppose—it makes them feel like they’ve got a handle on the universe without actually doing the heavy lifting of real thought.
Even those Carolingian priests go as far as to claim it in their own writings: I was reading through some recent news regarding the ongoing tensions within the Church—specifically those discussions surrounding the role of women and the evolving views on leadership—and I couldn’t help but feel that we are hitting a massive wall of institutional inertia. It’s one of those things where you see the cracks forming in the foundation, yet the people in charge seem more interested in patching up the wallpaper than actually fixing the structural issues. It reminds me of a situation I dealt with years ago back when I was working for a large firm in Chicago—we had this old-school management style that refused to acknowledge how much the industry had changed. They kept clinging to these outdated protocols while the rest of us were practically screaming that the world had moved on. Eventually, the whole thing just buckled under its own weight. There is this persistent sense that certain voices are being systematically sidelined, not because they lack merit, but because their perspectives threaten the comfort of the status quo. You hear these calls for reform, these pleas for a more inclusive approach to how authority is distributed, and yet the response is often a polite, measured shrug from the top. It’s frustrating—honestly, it’s infuriating—to watch such a profound opportunity for growth be squandered by a fear of change. And then there’s the theological aspect of it all. People argue about tradition as if it were a static, unchangeable object frozen in amber, rather than a living, breathing dialogue. If we aren't willing to listen to the lived experiences of the people sitting in the pews—those who are actually out there doing the work—then what is the point of the entire structure? We end up with an institution that looks magnificent from the outside, all polished marble and stained glass, but feels increasingly hollow to those inside. Benjamin Taylor6 mentioned something similar recently about the disconnect between modern values and ancient hierarchies, and honestly, he hit the nail on the head. We can’t keep pretending that these contradictions don't exist. You can only ignore the elephant in the room for so long before it starts stepping on everyone's toes.
It’s funny—actually, it’s more than just funny, it’s downright absurd—how some people out there actually claim we all just happened by accident. They sit around with their little theories, acting like the whole of America was just some cosmic fluke, a roll of the dice that somehow landed on us. It’s preposterous. You look at the sheer scale of everything, the history, the way things have unfolded... you can't honestly tell me this was all just a random glitch in the universe. There's a design to it, a purpose, even if most people are too distracted by the noise to see it. To suggest otherwise? Well, it just shows how little some folks truly understand about how we came to be.
First off—and I really can’t stress this enough—nothing in this life happens by sheer accident. There is no such thing as a coincidence. Everything that unfolds, every twist of fate, every unexpected turn... it all happens by the will of God.
How are people even supposed to grasp the existence of God if they don't buy into the whole thing about His messengers? It’s a bit of a logical loop, isn't it? I mean—think about it—if you reject the idea that anyone was sent to deliver the message, then the entire bridge between the divine and the human just... vanishes. It’s like trying to hear a radio station when you refuse to believe the broadcast towers actually exist. You can stare at the static all day, but without that connection point, you're just left spinning your wheels in the dark. I’ve spent plenty of late nights staring at the ceiling wondering about this exact kind of circular reasoning—how can one claim to seek the truth while simultaneously slamming the door on the very people who supposedly hold the keys? It seems a bit contradictory, don't you think?
Messengers? Seriously, who exactly are we talking about when we say "his messengers"? How can anyone be so sure they’re actually answering His call—and not just some random group following their own agenda or serving someone else entirely! It’s the same old story, isn't it? People claim to speak for God, yet they seem more interested in their own little circles than anything divine. I mean, look at how often people get led astray by those claiming to have the "true word"—it happens all the time in our history. How do you even begin to verify that kind of thing without getting caught up in the noise?
Most people walk around thinking they have a basic grasp of science—they know atoms exist, they’ve seen the little ball-and-stick models in textbooks since grade school—but it makes you wonder... how do they actually *know*? I mean, really think about it. We can't see them with our own eyes, right? It’s not like you can just pull out a magnifying glass and peer down at a speck of dust to see the building blocks of reality. It’s one of those things where we just accept the consensus because it sounds logical, but there's a massive gap between "knowing" a fact and actually grasping the mechanics behind it. It's like believing in gravity because you don't float away when you step off a curb—you understand the effect, but the actual physics? That's a whole different beast entirely. It's all based on layers upon layers of mathematical proofs and indirect observations that most of us couldn't begin to untangle if our lives depended on it. We live in this world of invisible certainties, just taking it on faith that the math holds up.
Nick hasn't actually laid eyes on an atom yet—even though we all know perfectly well they exist, right? It’s one of those things that feels almost absurd when you really stop to think about it.
Most of us just... we know, right? It’s like those micro-waves—you can't see them with your own eyes, they aren't exactly jumping out at you from across the room, but deep down, you just *know* they're there. You can feel the frequency of it all. It’s that intuitive sense that something is vibrating just out of sight, moving through the air, constant and invisible. It’s a bit like how I used to feel sitting in my old office in Chicago—just this underlying hum of energy you couldn't quite pin down, but you knew it was influencing everything around you. We don't need a visual to confirm reality; some things are just felt.
Don't you think?
Most of them—and I mean the vast majority—they go through life acting like they know all about God, but when it actually comes down to it? They don't believe a single word of it. It’s one of those things that just gets under my skin—this performative sort of knowledge where people talk the talk, but there isn't any actual conviction behind it.
Do you really need to see it with your own eyes before you'll actually believe it? It’s funny—I was thinking about this the other day while I was stuck in traffic on the I-95—how much we rely on "proof" these days. We’ve become this society that demands a receipt for every single truth handed to us. You can tell someone the sky is blue, or that a certain politician is a complete fraud, and people will just sit there blinking at you, waiting for a high-definition video or some peer-reviewed study to back it up. It’s exhausting, honestly. We've lost that sense of intuition—that gut feeling that used to guide us—because we're too busy looking for a digital footprint to validate our own common sense. It makes me wonder if we've forgotten how to trust anything that isn't staring us right in the face.
Look, there are certain truths that you can only reach through inference—you follow the breadcrumbs, you see the patterns, and eventually, the picture becomes clear. But let’s be honest here: as of right now, nobody can actually prove the existence of God in that neat, tidy, "A+B=C" way we were all spoon-fed back in Sunday school. It just doesn't work like that. You can't walk into a lab, run a controlled experiment, and come out with a certificate of proof for the Divine. We were taught it was this simple, logical certainty, but reality is a whole lot messier than a textbook diagram.
Science is actually getting uncomfortably close to this hideous God: I’ve been sitting here staring at this for twenty minutes, trying to wrap my head around the sheer audacity of what was just said—it’s honestly exhausting. You know, I was talking to a buddy of mine over in Chicago the other day about how people seem to lose their grip on reality the moment they step behind a keyboard, and this post is the perfect, infuriating example of that phenomenon. It’s one thing to have an opinion, but it’s quite another to be so aggressively, confidently wrong that it borders on a clinical delusion. The logic used here is—well, there isn't any. It’s just a series of loud, unearned assertions masquerading as insight. It reminds me of those people who watch one three-minute clip of a documentary and suddenly think they’re qualified to lecture experts at Harvard. It’s that specific brand of arrogance that makes you want to just walk away from the screen entirely, though we all know I never do. And then you have Benjamin Taylor6 chiming in, which only adds to the chaotic energy of the whole thread. At this point, I’m convinced some people don't actually engage with the argument; they just wait for their turn to shout. It’s a circus, really—a digital circus where nobody is checking the tickets and the clowns are running the show. Honestly, if this is the level of discourse we’re dealing with today, I might just go back to reading old paperbacks. At least the characters in those books occasionally make sense.
😲😲😁😲😲
