I love Jesus. I always have. Some sects say that one has to make a conscious decision to accept Jesus and become Christian. But I was born into a Christian home, raised Christian, and have never considered myself unacquainted.
But the relationship has evolved over the years, as any relationship will. I remember being confirmed at age 11 and thinking that I was making this decision to join the church with the most sincerity and with the fullest understand that I could. I took my faith seriously; I took my vows seriously. But even at 11, I knew that my faith wasn’t complete, that getting older would mean my understanding would deepen or change. That fact didn’t lessen my sincerity or the meaning of my confirmation. After all, God meets us where we are.
And God’s mostly met me in the library. I love studying the theology, the history, the literature. I know God intellectually. I think about Him a lot. And sometimes, I feel the emotions. The overwhelming love, gratitude, and desire for Him.
Lately, the emotions have come more often. It’s like my heart has been split and compassion poured in. It’s painful and scary and hard to analyze. But it’s also wonderful. Much of my adult life has been slowly integrating feeling and risk into my natural pragmatic personality. It’s indescribable, though I’ve tried. I’m learning to embrace the emotional side, to use it to better connect with others, and to still check it against my intellectually foundation.
There is no conclusion. It’s still something I’m adapting to. And it’s something that will undoubtedly wax and wane and evolve. But it is a change. Something is different. God has always been there. I’ve always loved Him and tried to follow Him. But when you travel a path, the scenery is bound to change.