Beauty.

She had to believe in God. Her family of course must have had something to do with it, but moreover it was what she had seen that made her believe. While much of it was what caused her immeasurable pain, it was also the beauty in the world that became the source of her conviction. Witnessing a father taking his son out to surf for the first time. Observing a random act of kindness as simple as holding the elevator for a stranger. Having the opportunity to watch a beautiful sunset. And then of course there was the ocean.
Though there have been many people who have studied the ocean she didn’t think it possible to fully comprehend the power of it. The beauty seen and the admiration it deserved, perhaps. But the power of it, never. The way the tide can easily bring in beautiful shells onto the sand, that had previously been hidden in the ocean’s depths for hundreds of years. Or even just the graceful seemingly effortless movement of it. The ocean could swallow you hole whether or not you let it. And the vastness would ensure that you would be lost forever. And while this could be a terrifying thought to many, to her it was quite beautiful, and worthy of much respect.
And so, on her worst days she would pay a visit to, what she believed to be, the closest thing to a deity on earth. She wouldn’t worship it of course, for there is no reason for such foolish actions. She would merely admire the grandeur of it all. On her worst days it would remind her of how small she, and consequently her problems, really were. Insignificance would inevitably come to mind as well. But merely the existence of such a beautiful, grand, and mighty thing as the ocean would remind her of God. For God is powerful, grand, almighty, etcetera. And most definitely, she thought, beautiful. The beauty in the world and in life assured her that her worst days would pass. That something so simple had the potential of issuing her a smile. And that she just might be able to make it one more day.