Yesterday I stared into darkness. Yesterday a friend told me that perception of soul, inspiration, or prayer was merely all a chemical reaction. This friend told me that poetry and lyricism was not essential to life, that reading the classics was worthless, that philosophy was mostly useless, and that all human endeavor was merely an outgrowth of the instinct of survival. Science was the answer, and those who doubted what science could answer had merely to take a few courses and unhinge their ignorance.
I stared into the darkness of such a perspective, and despite my bewilderment, I found myself moved to doubt by the force of this friend's personality.
I prayed.
Today, I spoke to an English teacher who believed in his quest to teach poetic perception to his students. I met a mathematician with an unflinching faith in Christ. And in the small hours of the early morning, I set the words "lumen ad revelationum" to music, a poignant statement after days of fruitless creative work.
Yes, I doubt. Sometimes, it seems too fantastic to be possible. Other times, God seems far too silent to be real. Then, at 3:30 in the morning, he speaks to me in the lower registers of my thought, and my doubt melts.
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