My good friend Micah said something last weekend that I’ve been mulling over. Something that has given me an incredible sense of hope. During his talk at the Faith & Culture Writing Conference, he said,
“Sometimes all you have to say is ‘Me too.’ Say it anyways.”
I wrote it down, tweeted it for posterity, and went about my day. To be honest, he said so much other incredible stuff the conference that it slipped my mind.
Then, on Monday night, as I was going through all my notes from the weekend, I re-read it, and it resonated in the deepest part of me.
There is beauty in knowing that we’re not alone, isn’t there? There is an incredible amount of comfort and family in knowing that we are not walking through this world by ourselves.
You’re not sure if you believe in God this week? Me too.
You can’t remember the last time you opened your bible simply because you wanted to? Me too.
You can’t remember the last time you prayed and felt God speak? Me too.
You love God, and hate him, and are angry at him, and are amazed by him, and adore him, and can’t stand him, all in the same breath? Me too.
At the end of the day, the thing that draws me to is not perfect theology, eloquent sermons, or the right answers. It isn’t people who have all their ducks in a row, and have their crap together.
The thing that points me to Jesus more than anything else is admitting my doubts and struggles and fears, in painful vulnerability, and then hearing someone saying,