Gavin was avoiding sleep, fussing in his swing. Maya walked over to him, cooed at him and gently gave him a pacifier (which did, actually, pacify him — go figure).
“Maya, you’re a really sweet big sister.”
(not even looking up from her puzzle) “Hmmm.”
“You really just wanted him to be quiet, didn’t you?”
“Yup.”
At least she’s honest about it.
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Once I hit 30, I began asking myself that question all over again. A few years later, I woke one day to realize that I simply didn't believe. For many reasons, I am a much happier (and more emotionally healthy) person having let go of god. There are still days that I wish god did exist. It would be a relief to relinquish responsibility to a greater power.
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But, even better, I can see life for what it is, and work with reality. That's more powerful than any god could hope to be.