I’ve often read or listened to the passionate telling of a transformative spiritual experience. The “mountaintop” experience, near death experience, or battle with a potentially terminal illness that leaves one changed.
Forever different, with a new found certainty in their faith or particular belief system.
If I’m to be honest I have to admit that I’ve been envious of those who have had a transformative experience.
I’ve sat silent in group after group listening while various individuals recount the moment when they “accepted Christ” into their life, or “found their faith”, or were “born again”.
I didn’t used to sit silently. But over time I began to feel that there must be something fundamentally wrong with me… My soul… My being…
There must be something wrong with me because I’ve clearly been on a spiritual quest for a very long time. And while I may have learned a lot, I’ve somehow managed to miss the “Ah ha” transformative moment.
Maybe I missed it because I was looking in the wrong places for the wrong things.
Maybe I missed the forest because I was looking for specific trees.
I now understand that MY transformative experience has been and remains the journey itself. MY mountaintop experience doesn’t have to be a single defining moment. It can instead be a single defining life.
I’ve felt a call to share my journey with others. I’ve felt that this was the way that I could contribute most significantly to the human spirit and help to realize what Jesus meant when he spoke of the Kingdom of God being among us then – and now.
I now see that one way to share my journey is to begin by sharing my vision of my destination. After all, is it not the allure of the glory of the destination that motivates us to take the journey?