There’s a great little show on the Discovery Channel that never fails to undo my best laid plans for Saturday afternoons. It’s called “I Shouldn’t Be Alive.” When the title alone isn’t enough to draw me in, it’s only a matter of time before the survivor of a plane crash (or rock slide or shark attack or hiking misadventure) begins recounting in excruciating detail his decision to cut off his own arm with a pocket knife (or eat his dog or drink his urine), rendering me completely useless on the living room couch until I’ve seen that the rescue helicopters have arrived.
We all love survival stories, which is perhaps why I like to compare my own faith journey to one--though with considerably less blood and suspense.
You see, my faith shouldn’t be alive. By all accounts, it should have perished the moment I started asking questions about faith and science…[Continue reading at “Science and the Sacred” blog]
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