I am unable to state, with conviction, that God exists in any way that sentence would have made sense to me in childhood or makes sense to me now intellectually. I have my eyes wide open to horrors that unfold in my city, and halfway across the world, in any given moment. But I apprehend—with a knowledge that is as much visceral as cognitive—that God is love.
The thing I don't like about the author that disconnects me a bit.
