I call her Emily sunshine.
She sat down at my table in the Student Union and reported she was experiencing serious doubts about her faith, due to a philosophy class and an influential atheist friend.
In class, the philosophy professor insisted on exposing students to outspoken skeptic Sam Harris on a regular basis, wearing Emily down.
The atheist friend wasn’t helping much, either.
I asked if she wanted to maintain her faith or slip into deep skepticism, a la David Hume, the famous 18th c. Scottish philosopher.
“Faith,” she insisted.
We talked through some arguments for the truth of Christianity.
“The arguments are pretty good, huh,” I pointed out.
She nodded.
“But not exactly proof. Good reasons, but not proof.”
“She nodded again.”
“Arguments take us only so far. Christ needs to be confirmed in our personal experience as well.”
She was into it. “Okay, this is good. This is what I want.”
A step in the right direction — aiming for a life of faith.
Then it happened.
Not two seconds after Emily’s realization about faith the clouds parted and the sun shown down through an overhead window, directly on her face. Literally, she was beaming.
“What? Is this really happening?!!” we both blurted out, laughing.
Next day I saw her again, still glowing. Emily sunshine. Or maybe I should call her Moses.
