My Real Memoir
“You don’t have to cough,” I told God. To wit, “You don’t have to make a sound or produce a theatrical burst of light for me to believe you’re here.” In fact, looking back, it seemed God had been present throughout my life:
- When as a child I’d dreamed I died yet was still alive, even as I looked down on the shell of my “old” body. A remarkable dream for a five-year-old with no conception of death, much less an afterlife.
- When I didn’t die a few years later, despite falling out of the tree that loved me best, “My Dreaming Tree.” The one with the tart-honey fruit that smelled like heaven.
- Every time I saw kindness in the eyes of the newspaper route customer I called “the Jesus lady.”
- The first time I felt an indefinable peace in my high school sweetheart’s home. A peace that came, oddly enough, from a faith I’d dismissed as “delusional.”
- The moment I heard “Day by Day” from the musical Godspell on my car radio. Something long-frozen inside me began to melt as I sang, “To see thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, follow thee more nearly, day by day.”
- When I first read Jesus’ words in a guru’s memoir. And then in a skinny little book of Jesus’ sayings. And finally in the New Testament itself.
And so, as I stood in the darkened dance studio of my little arts academy, I felt I had no choice but to leap toward the silent roar that had punctuated every chapter of my life. I had doubts, yes. But then every major decision I’d ever made was fraught with doubts. Even my marriage, my second-best decision ever, would be clouded with uncertainty.
True, what lay ahead was scary, but what lay behind was scarier. Behind was mere existence devoid of the love and purpose I longed for. Ahead was the fulfillment of both of those longings in the one who made me. The love of my life, it turned out, was not a woman, but my Creator. And my life’s purpose was to know him.
Still, was it rational? I soon learned that the term “leap of faith” had been coined by the Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard. One my first spiritual teachers, theologian Francis Schaeffer, disliked the term. A true believer, he argued, makes a rational leap, not a blind one. One that looks like this:
Caught in a blizzard, you reach the edge of a cliff. The way back is death, and the way forward is un-seeable. But is not unknowable. Because, through the dense fog, a seasoned Mountaineer calls out to you, assuring you that a ledge is within reach. If you jump, he says, you’ll be saved. You trust him because he offers evidence that he is who he says he is. Thus, it is a rational decision. And so you leap.
The Mountaineer’s words and character had burned a hole in my skeptical heart, causing his light to pour into me.
And so I leaped.
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
Mitch, I missed reading about your “dream” that you had at five. Absolutely not a dream, but so much more! You were kissed by the divine, for sure!
That dream left such a big impression on me. But it wasn’t until my conversion that I began to realize where it came from.
Just speaking for myself, but my path included what I have always considered to be an irrational leap of faith. I reached the point where I would rather be honest and damned than continue to protect myself with a lie. So, I leapt into destruction and was surprised to find salvation there instead.
A unique perspective, Abe.
My dear, your writing gave me chills. It’s not just beautiful, but it also makes you think, and the way you express yourself is truly unique. Thank you, really!
Aw, bless you, Afrodite.
OH YES!
God’s call on each of us has it’s own uniqueness. Crazy jump!, But jump!
Very true, Pete.
Thanks for sharing
My privilege, L.G.
I can relate to many of your stories above. I may have made different experiences but with same feelings. Thanks for the reminder, Mitch!
My privilege, Erika.
So, Mitch, you finally opened your heart. You let Jesus in. Your faith saved you. Praise the Lord for His patience and providence with His strong-willed child! 🙂
Amen to that, Nancy!
cool
Love this, Mitch.
Thanks, Bob.
Thank you for sharing this lovely piece. It touched me in a number of ways & I appreciate the inspiration.
My pleasure, Linda.
Thank you for courageously sharing your most profound spiritual leap, Mitch. Your honest vulnerability about finding God’s presence throughout life’s chapters deeply inspires. The rational approach to faith offers hope to seekers everywhere. Your authentic testimony of discovering divine love illuminates the path for others.
Thank you, Livora.
Nice post
Thank you, Satyam.
This is one of the nicest descriptions of coming to faith that I’ve ever read!
I’m so pleased to hear that, Ann.
Though Kierkegaard never used the phrase, “blind leap of faith,” most infer that this was his meaning, a leap into the dark with no assurance. Obviously, even the disciples of Matthew 28 (probably Paul’s 500 or more [1 Corinthians 15:6]) had some doubts… LOOKING right at the resurrected Jesus! So yes, it is still a leap, but as you point out, it is not a “blind” leap without evidence!
❤️&🙏, c.a.
Thanks for the thoughtful reflection, C.A.
Praise God he never gives up on us, no matter how far we try to run. Looking forward to the rest of your story, Mitch, because I know in part how God has used you to minister to who-knows-how-many, including all of us here!
🧡
Reminds me of Romans 1:19-20 through which we know that God reveals himself in so many ways. I know I always felt Him, and even when I walked away, He was (and is) dogged in His pursuit.
“They know the truth about God because he has made it obvious to them. 20 For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature…”
Amen, my Anonymous friend.
Wonderful words. Thank you.
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