Once my friend told me that he felt Christian imposter syndrome sometimes because he had never had a big, life altering encounter with God. But we encounter God everywhere. It's in the way you let me sit on your couch and ramble about a breakup when we barely knew each other. It's in sunshine. Laughter. The faces of my friends who have never set foot in a church. It's in all the people who have shown me grace and mercy when I wholly didn't deserve it. It's the ache you've been trying to explain. It's the way that birds just know when to push their babies out of the nest. The way that I have found myself back in church even though no one would blame me if I hadn't. The way that we, creatures from a miniscule part of the universe, not only wanted to, but taught ourselves how to look into deep space. The sound of water flowing along a creek. It's the rhythm of the ocean, beating since before our species existed. You can go your whole life without having a big, come-to-jesus, altar call moment when you were "saved," and that's ok. Your faith doesn't have to run on adrenaline highs and intensity. God's in the still small voice. All the little miracles around you.
