Welcome back to another Question of the Week! Today’s question comes from Gregory Stock’s thought-provoking collection, The Book of Questions. It’s one that touches on something deeply personal for many of us – our relationship with faith, especially during our most vulnerable moments.

The Question

Do you believe in God? If not, do you think you might nonetheless pray if you were in a life-threatening situation?

I’ve been sitting with this question for a few days now, turning it over in my mind. It’s deceptively simple on the surface, but opens up so many avenues for reflection.

My Answer

Yes, I do believe in God. That’s the straightforward part of my answer. But when it comes to prayer, I have to be honest with myself and admit that I don’t pray as often as I feel I should. This acknowledgment comes with a twinge of guilt, because my belief system includes the understanding that I should maintain regular communication with God through prayer.

If I’m being completely transparent, I know I’m guilty of something many believers experience – I tend to turn to God most intensely when I’ve reached the end of my rope, when the challenges before me seem insurmountable, and when I’ve exhausted my own resources and abilities. It’s in those moments when I realize I can no longer depend solely on myself that my prayers become most fervent.

Is this ideal? Probably not. But I think it speaks to something very human about faith. Even for those of us who believe, prayer often intensifies during crisis. There’s that old saying about there being “no atheists in foxholes” – while I don’t entirely agree with that sentiment (and find it a bit dismissive of sincere non-believers), I do think it captures something true about how crisis can clarify our need for something beyond ourselves.

Finding Comfort in Faith

One of the most profound ways my faith has supported me was after losing my dad. That period of grief was overwhelming, and still resurfaces from time to time. What got me through – what still gets me through – is the belief that I will see him again one day. That comfort is immeasurable, a light that never fully dims even in the darkest moments of loss.

I find deep reassurance in knowing I can turn to God in prayer, even if I don’t do so as consistently as I believe I should. There’s something profoundly comforting about the idea that the Creator of the universe considers me – and each of us – important enough to hear our prayers when we cry out.

Genuine Curiosity

This brings me to something I’ve wondered about for a long time. For those who don’t believe in God or any higher power – where does comfort come from in those difficult times? This isn’t asked with any judgment whatsoever; it’s genuine curiosity.

If you identify as atheist or agnostic, how do you process grief? What provides you solace when facing life’s greatest challenges? What frameworks help you make sense of suffering or find meaning in difficult experiences?

I try to imagine facing the loss of my father without the belief that I’ll see him again, and I find it difficult to envision how I would have coped. But I know that many non-believers navigate these same waters with grace and resilience, and I’m curious about that journey.

If any readers identify as atheist or agnostic, I’d genuinely love to hear your perspective in the comments. This isn’t about debate or conversion – just open dialogue and understanding perspectives different from my own. I believe we can all learn from each other’s approaches to life’s biggest questions.

What Prayer Means to Me

When I do pray, it creates a sense of connection that’s difficult to describe. Prayer, for me, isn’t just about asking for things. It’s about relationship. It’s acknowledging that I’m part of something larger than myself, that my life is held in hands more capable than my own.

Sometimes prayer is wordless – just a reaching out, a recognition of presence. Other times it’s conversational, talking through my thoughts, fears, and gratitude. And yes, sometimes it’s desperate pleading in moments when I feel completely overwhelmed.

I believe that’s all okay. I believe God meets us where we are, not where we think we should be.

The Bigger Picture

At the core of my belief system is this: I believe in a God of infinite wisdom and infinite love who has a plan for each of us. I believe this love is extended to everyone, waiting only to be accepted. And I believe that the ultimate expression of this love was sending Jesus to walk in our shoes and take on the punishment for our sins, creating a way for us to spend eternity with God.

That’s the foundation that underpins how I move through the world, how I understand my place in it, and how I find meaning in both joy and suffering. It doesn’t mean I never question or doubt – I certainly do. Faith isn’t the absence of questions; it’s the willingness to live into them, trusting that even when we don’t understand, we are understood.

In Closing

I know this question touches on deeply personal territory for many of us. Whatever your belief system – whether you’re certain in your faith, certain in your non-belief, or somewhere in the questioning middle – I hope this post has given you something to reflect on.

And I genuinely invite your thoughts. Whether you agree, disagree, or have a completely different perspective, I’d love to hear from you in the comments. What helps you make sense of life’s biggest challenges? Where do you turn when facing your darkest moments?

---

What are your thoughts on this week’s question? Do you believe in God? Where do you find comfort during life’s difficult moments? Share in the comments below.

Feature Photo by Ric Rodrigues