On a warm late spring day in June 2015, in an inflatable raft carrying me, a guide, and five other brave souls, I drifted down North Carolina’s French Broad River—a breathtaking waterway framed by green mountains, rocks, and rushing white-water rapids. It was exhilarating, heart-pounding, and unforgettable.

What struck me most was not just the beauty of the river, but its age. Geologists estimate that the French Broad River may be as much as 300 million years old, making it one of the oldest rivers in North America. How do we know that? Scientific evidence.

That matters because science, through evidence, testing, and peer review, has given us explanations about the age of rivers, mountains, and even the Earth itself. Science tells us the Earth is approximately 4.5 billion years old.

Yet many Christians reject that conclusion, believing instead that the Earth is only 6,000 to 10,000 years old based on the biblical account in Genesis. For me, that claim is not based on evidence—it is based on faith.

And that is where my journey begins.

Science is not a guess. A scientific theory is not an opinion. Scientific theories are explanations built on evidence, repeated testing, and constant scrutiny. They can change when new evidence emerges.

Faith is different. Faith asks us to believe without evidence.

For me, that became a problem.

My atheism did not begin on the French Broad River, nor did it appear overnight. It was the result of years of doubt, questioning, and trying to make sense of beliefs that never fully made sense to me.

In April 2011, I read a book first published in 1794—The Age of Reason by Thomas Paine.

Paine challenged Christianity, the Bible, and religion itself. More importantly, he challenged the idea that belief should be accepted simply because it had been handed down through tradition.

His book became the catalyst that helped me confront something I had wrestled with for years.

I already had doubts.

I had long questioned whether many of the stories in the Bible should be accepted as literal truth. I wondered why doubt was answered with “have faith” instead of evidence. I questioned why logic and reason seemed to take a back seat whenever belief was challenged.

Paine gave words to something I had struggled to express:

“It is necessary to the happiness of man, that he be mentally faithful to himself. Infidelity does not consist in believing, or in disbelieving; it consists in professing to believe what he does not believe.”
~ Thomas Paine

That struck me deeply.

Because the truth is, I wanted to believe.

I sincerely tried.

At different times in my life, after emotional sermons or during personal tragedy—divorce, grief, heartbreak, and loss—I opened my heart and asked Jesus for help. I prayed because I wanted comfort, answers, and hope.

Nothing happened.

That does not prove anything to others, perhaps, but it mattered to me.

My doubts were not rooted in rebellion. They were rooted in reason.

On the surface, I called myself a Christian, but deep inside I struggled with biblical stories that, to me, seemed more like mythology and folklore than historical fact.

A talking snake. A burning bush that spoke. A man surviving three days inside a great fish. A worldwide flood that spared only one family.

I know millions believe these stories literally.

I do not.

I cannot reconcile them with reason, logic, or what I understand about the world.

Nor can I reconcile the moral implications of some biblical stories. I struggle with the idea of a loving and compassionate God destroying innocent children in judgment stories such as the flood or Sodom and Gomorrah.

These things do not make sense to me.

Christians often say the Bible is the Word of God because the Bible says so. But to me, that is circular reasoning.

The Bible validates Christianity, and Christianity validates the Bible.

That does not satisfy my questions.

Thomas Paine once asked: How do we know the Bible is the Word of God?

That question stayed with me.

The Bible, as I see it, is a collection of ancient writings selected and preserved by men. Some books were included. Others were rejected. Believers say those decisions were guided by God.

I ask: how do we know that?

Because faith says so?

Faith has never been enough for me.

Please understand: I am not condemning those who believe.

Thomas Paine himself wrote:

“I do not mean by this declaration to condemn those who believe otherwise; they have the same right to their belief as I have to mine.”

I feel the same way.

I do not challenge anyone’s right to believe in God, Christianity, or any religion.

I ask only for the same freedom to explain why I do not.

Religion has shaped human history and remains deeply important to billions of people. I believe many religious people are sincere, moral, and good-hearted.

My disbelief is not a rejection of them.

It is simply a rejection of claims I do not believe are supported by evidence.

No doubt, many reading this will disagree with me and find flaws in my reasoning.

That is okay.

We all have the right to believe—or not believe.

I leave you with the words of Stephen Roberts:

“I contend that we are both atheists. I just believe in one less God than you do. When you understand why you dismiss all the other possible gods, you will understand why I dismiss yours.”