At the age of four I knew that God was everywhere. I spoke to Him, and sometimes He listened with sympathy. It was an unforgettable occasion in boyhood when He sent me a bicycle with a coaster brake.
As I grew toward manhood, the more I learned, the less I believed in God. I told myself that He had been invented by ancients who feared the eternal darkness of death. My superior intellect told me that God was a fake. Heaven could not be up, and Hell down, because in space there is no up or down.
Then one day I felt a new experience. I saw the miracle of birth, and it turned my wandering mind around. How, I wondered, could an infant, unconscious of life, fashion the correct number of limbs and toes and fingers and eyes. I began to doubt my doubts. Then, suddenly, in a span of nine weeks, I lost both my wife and my mother. I was forced…
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