Evidence

Sometimes I find myself doubting God’s existence. Just yesterday, I saw a baby bird that had fallen from the nest, its blood and viscera spread over the sidewalk, its body dried to a skeleton in the sun. Why would God create this miracle of life, only for it to be utterly wasted? As if sensing my doubt, the desiccated corpse shuddered, its organs drawing themselves back inside its body cavity, which plumped and rehydrated even as it chirped, rose, and flew right back up to its nest—cleverly reminding me, once again, that nothing goes to waste under God's great sky.