yesterday on the plane, i finished reading thi
and i wept. silently, but still, there were tears. because this book, these words and thoughts and this way of looking at god and spirituality and jesus hit me hard. in my core. it reawakened my thirst for transformation. and it spoke to me in a way that not much has.
i need to read it again with a highlighter. so that i can refer often to the passages that really struck a chord.
the epilogue talks about a moment in a church service when the author was a boy. he tells about how the pastor told everyone at the end of the services that if they wanted to believe in jesus and be saved, they could do it right there. in their seats. he asked everyone to bow their heads and to pray a salvation prayer with him if they wanted to. then, when he was finished, he asked the congregation to keep their eyes closed while instructing those who had made a decision for christ to raise their hands. he began to say things like, "i see some hands in the back, thank you. and there are a few ladies in the front. amen." but the author had his eyes open the entire time. there were no hands raised.
when i finished the epilogue, my mouth was hanging open. for real. not because i couldn't believe what had happened, but because i was in the same church service, or one very similar, as a young girl.
and at moments like that, in those types of places with those types of lying, deceitful representations of god, there is a choice to make. either lose your faith entirely, or find a new way to do faith. a way that's pure and true and just and honest. a way that's loving and kind and helpful and righteous.
thankfully, that moment in that church service wasn't a terrible moment for my faith, or the authors. but it was a defining one.