There’s a question that tends to show up not at the beginning of faith, but somewhere in the middle — after the recited prayers and Sunday school answers have begun to feel more like postcards from someone else’s vacation than reflections of your own experience.
The question is this: What does it actually feel like to encounter God?
Not the God of theology books, but the One you’re told is as near as your breath. The One who speaks, comforts, calls. The One you’re supposed to trust — but how can you trust someone you’re not sure you’ve ever felt? It’s the kind of question that rarely gets asked out loud, but it lives in our bodies. It flickers beneath hospital fluorescents. It rises after a funeral. It hovers in the woods when the light hits the trees just right, and something inside you stirs…