Do I believe you?
It doesn't matter if I do, or if I don't. If it's true, it's true. If it's not, it's not.
It only makes a difference to me, if I believe it, or not. It makes no difference to the truth of it.
I tend to believe it. Not because I like the sound of it, or because I prefer to, but because it lines up with my own observations and experience of Christianity and Christians. Along with my own experience of life in general.
Christianity has all the hallmarks of a made-up story. Typically human stuff.
The most readily apparent thing about it is the overdone mysticism concerning probably impossible stuff.
Humans love to supply their own mystical content, being so often unable to perceive the actual mysticism that is already there. There is no need to provide it. That, really, is the whole point. Mystery. Mysteriously mystical.
This thing known as God is really only Reality. Too big to take in. Completely beyond control. Awesome. Frightening.
This makes so much more sense than an insecure old tyrant sitting on a cloud.
I worship life, and what lies beyond the sliver of life.
I submit, joyously, to Reality.