Losing Faith in Faith

For the first time, Ryan was able to grasp the difference. Or at least most of what he was saying.

It was like a juror who only had two choices: guilty or not guilty. Voting 'innocent' wasn't an option. So in this case, God was 'on trial' and being accused of existing. The prosecution had the burden of proof to demonstrate He does. If that burden was met, jurors would vote 'guilty'. If not, even if they suspected He might be guilty, they could vote 'not guilty'. But under no circumstance would they or could they vote 'innocent'.

The distinction was subtle but critically important. Ryan now 'got it'. Were Bryce claiming to know God doesn't exist, then and only then, would he be required to prove that. In that case, he would indeed be exercising faith in something he couldn't prove, because it's impossible to prove there is no God. She was also beginning to understand it was just as impossible to prove He did exist once one excluded anecdotal claims about personal experiences and feelings no one else could examine.

Were she to accept such anecdotal claims as evidence, she would have to accept those made by Muslims or Mormons or others she didn't consider to be Christians. And yet, she still couldn't help but think that as long as a person's claims aligned with the Bible, they should at least be considered as some form of evidence. No, it wasn't 'real' evidence like God appearing in the sky or providing some indisputable sign, but it was evidence...wasn't it?"

"I have to admit my head is spinning," she told him. "I've never heard anyone make the kind of case you're making. If we're going to keep using trial language, that is."

"If you're not sick of me yet, we could try this again tomorrow evening," Bryce suggested as he called for Annabelle to get ready to go.

"I'm not sick of you at all, Bryce. I've thoroughly enjoyed having you here..."

Annabelle came zipping in with another scribbled picture for her daddy to admire, and Ryan said, "Both of you...very much."

"I'm really glad to hear you say that, Ryan. I've enjoyed spending time with you, too. I just wish it was for different reasons."

She'd completely forgotten his earlier comments about wanting to 'spend time with her' assuming it was just polite, idle talk. But was it possible he really did want to spend time with her—like that? And if he did, why on earth would he want to? He was so young and handsome and...appealing. Why would he even consider someone like her let alone...her?

That was just one more question for which she didn't currently have an answer, and unless he brought it up again, she wasn't about to ask. And that's when he did bring it up.

"Ryan?" he said as he got Annabelle's coat on her.

"Yes?"

"Listen. I was wondering if you might want to um...maybe do something together sometime where we don't discuss this particular topic."

The timing of this question rang the bell in her brain that said 'there are no coincides' even though things often seemed coincidental. And yet Bryce had said more than once already that nothing was subject to some 'higher plan' because there was no Planner. Yes, people made plans and sometimes those plans coincided with the plans of other people. But quite often, just as when his wife had been so senselessly killed, 'stuff' just happened.

So maybe there was nothing more to it than him really, sincerely wanting to spend time with her...like that.

"Well, Bryce, I...I don't know. I mean, I'm only just recently divorced, and let's be honest, I'm...well, I'm much older than you are. How could you possibly want to..."

He smiled and without being rude, cut her off in mid-sentence.

"I noticed you didn't say, 'I don't feel that way about you' or that you have no such interest in me. So if our difference in age is all there is, I can assure you it makes no difference to me at all. If it does to you, I'll respect that, of course."

Now that her trump card had just been snatched from her hand, she wasn't sure what else to say.

"I'm tempted to say this is likely some kind of carryover from your boyhood crush, but after getting to know you, I believe you think things through rather carefully so I'll say instead I'm very flattered."

Bryce smiled as he grabbed his own jacket and asked, "So was that a 'yes'?"

Ryan tried not to laugh, but between his smile and his boyishly good looks, it was hard not to.

"Hey, you're laughing," Bryce said pretending to be offended.

"No. Not at you. I'm just so...pleasantly surprised at what a fine, young gentleman you've turned out to be."

Bryce zipped the coat up then said, "So was that a 'yes'?"

Ryan laughed again then told him, "That's an 'I'll think about it'."

"Okay. I can live with that," he told her, sporting yet another smile. "For now."

He picked his sleepy daughter up and said, "Can you tell Miss Ryan goodnight?"

Without raising her head off her daddy's shoulder she said, "Night, Miss Ryan."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," she told her as she gently stroked the little girl's hair.

"She is such a precious little doll," Ryan said to Bryce as she continued the soft 'brushing' with her fingers. "I'd give anything to have a sweet child like this."

As careful as Bryce was with both his words and his feelings, he couldn't believe he was saying the words that came out of his mouth.

"You know we're a package deal, right?"

He was almost as surprised as she was. And yet, as surprised as she was, her heart ached to love a child and be loved in return so much it hurt, and that feeling outweighed any surprise she might have felt.

In return, she found herself saying something she couldn't believe she said. She said it very politely and even tenderly, but she did say it.

"Having a child is my Achilles Heel, Ryan. Please don't shoot me there again, okay?"

Now feeling guilty, he began apologizing, but before he could finish Ryan said, "I'm not upset, Bryce. Not at all. It's just that I..."

She stopped then said, "I should probably just say goodnight."

"Yes. Me, too. And I really am sorry. I would never, ever say anything to hurt you."

"I know that," she said very sweetly. "And you didn't. Hurt me, that is. It's just that Annabelle is everything I ever..."

Again, she stopped speaking then looked at Bryce and told him 'goodnight'.

"Goodnight, Ryan. And thank you for having us over. This was the nicest time I've had in quite a while."

"Me, too," she told him sincerely.

Annabelle was already fast asleep in her daddy's arms by the time Ryan closed the door, but Ryan found herself unable to even lie down even hours later as she sat there replaying the evening over and over in her mind. She went back and forth between their 'faith versus reason' conversation to the things Bryce said to her about her being beautiful and wanting to spend time with her doing something besides talking about faith and reason.

Nothing he said had upset her with one exception. When he told her faith was the reason people gave when they had no evidence to support a claim, that was a burr under her saddle. She'd tried to find analogies to persuade him he was wrong.

"What about when you get on an airplane? Aren't you putting your faith in the pilot and the plane?"

He'd politely smiled then said, "No. Not at all. I'm getting on because I know that planes are design aerodynamically to fly. I know the FAA requires pilots to be trained to very high standards. Past history tells me aviation accidents happen, but that they are very rare. So I'm not exercising faith. I'm using logic and reason to make my decision."

"Okay, but you loved your wife dearly. Didn't you put faith in her loving you?"

Ryan was sure that was a home run, but again, Bryce had a logical counterpoint.

"No. I put my trust in her based on her behavior from the moment we met. Over time, her actions allowed me to have confidence in her claim that she loved me. So that isn't faith unless you're defining faith as being synonymous with trust. If so, then there's no need for the word faith."

"I just...disagree," Ryan had said almost coldly before apologizing.

"How about this?" Bryce said after telling her she hadn't needed to apologize.

"You're in Brazil and in the jungle. You come upon a rope bridge over a river. The guide tells you it's safe. Do you step out onto the bridge or do you first try and verify that it's safe?"

"I'd want to know it's safe, of course."

"Right. Stepping out without checking is faith. Stepping out after having verified it's sturdy is trust. Faith is based on pure hope. Trust is based on past history and our knowledge of how things work. People place faith in God because they have no evidence He exists. The Bible tells us 'faith is the evidence of things not seen; the substance of things hoped for'. But it's really nothing but pure, unadulterated hope based on a lack of actual evidence. Unless, again of course, personal feelings and experiences count as evidence."

That still irked her, but now she was trying to decide if it did because he was wrong or because it forced her confront yet one more thing she'd always believed and accepted by...faith?

It was well after 2am when she finally laid down and closer to four when she fell asleep.

Bryce had almost as much difficulty sleeping, but none of it was due to their religiously-based chat. It was due solely to his inability to get this beautiful, older woman out of his head. After spending just those few hours with her, he knew this attraction he felt was real and much more than the vestiges of his former crush. What he didn't know was whether or not she even had the slightest bit of the same kinds of feelings for him. One way or the other he was determined to find out.

It was a little after noon before he called her. Annabelle had forced him to get up by 7:30, and although he was used to that, he was still very tired. And yet he very much wanted to not only talk to her again, but to spend more time with her.

Ryan was also tired to the point of being punchy, but just seeing his name on her phone made her smile.

"Hi, there," she said as she answered his call.

"Is this a good time?" he asked immediately.

"Sure. I'm actually glad you called."

"I'm glad you're glad," he said with a smile she could 'hear'.

"Did you still want to get together this evening?" she asked before he could.

"Wow. You just read my mind," he said. "Or maybe you received a revelation from on high?"

Just talking with him made her so happy that she nearly giggled. Fortunately, it came out closer to a laugh.

"No. No revelations. Just maybe...hope?" she said sweetly.

"I would love to come over again," he said enthusiastically. "I'd invite you over here, but this place is basically a cracker box with windows, and we still have boxes everywhere, so... ."

Ryan laughed again then said, "I don't care about things like that. People make a house a home, and I'd trade this big, empty house I live in alone for a smaller space and a loving family anytime."

"You might change your mind after seeing this place, though," he warned her playfully.

"I doubt that," she told him back. "Would you like me to make dinner again?"

"I can't ask you to do that," he told her.

"I have to make something for myself anyway. You don't eat that much and Annabelle eats like a bird, so it's no trouble. Really."

"At least let me bring something," he said.

They agreed on what he could pick up at the store, and after chatting for a few more seconds said goodbye.

When Ryan let them in, their hug was slightly longer and seemed more meaningful this time although neither of them mentioned it. Bryce set the goodies he'd bought on the counter then went to work helping Ryan get dinner ready.

"I could get used to having someone help me like this," she said in a way that made him wonder if it could possibly be some kind of hint or...sign...that she might at least have some amount of feelings for him.

"I love helping out. If both people are traditional and believe in 'men's work' and 'women's work', that's fine. I just prefer sharing as much as I can with the person I love."

He didn't see the look on Ryan's face when he said 'the person I love', but she most definitely felt her heart skip a beat when he did. That was the one and only hint of anything even close to a romantic comment the entire evening, and as they ate, the conversation naturally came back to faith and reason.

"I'm curious, Bryce. In a few words, what are your major objections to...faith?. Or religion? Or whatever word you prefer?" she asked.

"Well, in a nutshell it's how this Being who claims to love us never, ever shows Himself. He says He cares about us and will answer our prayers, but He doesn't. Not unless you're okay with the 'we can't know everything in this life' explanation. I know if I could help Annabelle, nothing on earth could keep me from doing so. I wouldn't be much of a father were I to only say I love her but never do anything to show her I do."

Ryan was listening very carefully but hadn't spoken. When she did all she said was, "Please continue."

"From there, we have a very, very long list of inconsistencies with the Bible from the creation sequence where plant life on earth comes before the sun is created to Noah's Ark to slavery to..."

"It wasn't slavery, Bryce. It was indentured servitude. There's a difference."

"I take it you've read Exodus chapter 21, right?" he asked politely.

"Of course. Several times."

"Then you know it isn't just indentured servitude. For Jews, yes. But for anyone the Israelites conquered, they became their slaves. Under some circumstances, even other Jews could become another Jew's property...for life. All of that is clearly spelled out in that chapter of the Bible."

"I...I'll have to reread it," she said, knowing she really had no idea what it said. Yes, she'd read it several times, but she'd never read it with that in mind.

"And then we have Noah's Ark. We know that no ship made of wood can be more than about 300 feet in length. That's because of a phenomenon called 'hogging'."

"Hogging?" she asked.

"It's too much to go into, but basically, the keel gets permanently bent because the ship's center is more buoyant that the bow or stern. It can and will sink a wooden ship over 300 feet, and Noah's Ark was over 450 feet long!"

Before Ryan could remind God could perform any miracle, he kept going.

"Then we have the problem of getting all of the animals in one place. Penguins, koalas, horses, giraffes, and everything else. Even if it was only two of each 'kind', a word that has no meaning in science, there's still a massive problem with getting them there."

"But it says God gathered the animals."

"True. And now I ask you how many miracles it takes to make the story 'work'? I'm not telling you it's impossible, I'm only saying the story requires miracle after miracle after miracle to become plausible. And what would the carnivores eat after the 'waters abated'? How many years would be needed for gazelles to reproduce in sufficient quantities to feed the lions and cheetahs, and other flesh-eating animals? And those are just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Where did that much water come from and go to? And in order to rain high enough to cover all the mountains of the earth in 40 days, the energy released would literally incinerate anything it fell on."

Ryan didn't answer so Bryce said, "You've heard of Occam's Razor, right?"

"I think so," she replied.

"Occam's razor is the problem-solving principle that, when presented with competing hypothetical answers to a problem, one should select the one that makes the fewest assumptions. So which assumption follows that principle? The one that says Noah's Ark is a legend or the one that requires us to believe in dozens of miracles to make it work?"

"But what if it's true? What if God did do all of that just like the Bible says?" she asked, getting defensive again.

"And that's the question only you can answer for yourself, Ryan. I've answered it to my satisfaction. Perhaps you have, too. Again, I have no 'dog in this fight'. It's not even a fight. I'm only sharing my perspective because you asked me to. I would never expect you to share my take on things let alone ask you to do so."

Her expression softened and her voice changed.

"You're right. I keep forgetting this isn't a debate or an argument. I did ask you to share your views, and you've been thoughtful and considerate at all times of mine. I think perhaps I'm defensive because a part of me wants to hold onto the things I've believed my entire adult life."

"And the other part of you?" he asked politely.

"It's getting stronger and louder with each passing day. You've addressed so many things I took for granted and dissected them in a way no one ever has. They've fed my own internal doubts that have caused me so much heartache, and I suppose that part of me is beginning to feel like it's had enough of playing make believe."

"Make believe as in pretending God really does answer prayers?" he asked tactfully.

"Yes. That's the big one. But everything else you've told he has also resonated deeply with me. I...even avoided going to church this morning for the first time since I was 14. I used being too tired to go as the excuse, as I was up very late thinking all this through, but the truth is I didn't really want to go."

"I'll try not to say this again, but at least one more time let me say it is not my intention to assist you in abandoning your faith."

"I know, Bryce. You're not. You're just...the messenger," she said with a smile that made him smile. "And I promise not to shoot you!"

"Could we...would you mind...if we talked about something else?" he asked as he laughed at her play on words.

"Of course not. I'd like that," she told him.

It was nearly nine again when Bryce got ready to leave. This time, they talked about Tanya and her husband and shared many details of their lives, their romance, and their heartaches, with each other.

By the time he left, Ryan's heart was breaking for him, knowing now how much he'd loved her and the grief her death had caused. For the first time since her husband left her, she didn't feel sorry for herself. She almost felt...lucky. Yes, it had been unbelievable difficult to be betrayed and then abandoned, but Ryan hadn't had the person she most deeply loved in life taken from her in an instant. Their situations were similar but she saw hers more like a broken ankle while Bryce had suffered compound fractures to all of the bones in both legs. And yet here he was talking cheerfully and comforting her for her loss.

Also for the first time, she saw this amazing, younger man as her equal rather than the little boy she'd once known. In fact, in many ways, she felt like he was the older, wiser, more mature of them, and once that realization set in, she was unable to see him the way she once had.

As they stood at the door, once again getting ready to leave, Ryan said, "I know I keep asking you one question after the other, but may I ask you one more?"

Bryce sensed a kind of nervousness he hadn't seen or felt before as she spoke.

"Yes. Of course."

He watched her look away and then down at the floor before she spoke.

"When...when you said you'd like to, you know, do something together that didn't involve discussing faith and reason...what did you have in mind?"

She looked up when she said 'what did you have in mind', and Bryce again sensed the nervousness.

"I'd like to ask you on a proper date," he told her gently and with a smile.

The nervousness was now apparent on her pretty face as it reacted to his reply.

"A date. I...I haven't been on a date since..."

He saw her thinking and watched her fingers move indicating she was counting.