Truthfully, a Saint Paul-like conversion would have been a heck of a lot easier. What’s not to like about falling over in the middle of the road, hearing the voice of God bellowing loud and clear from the heavens and then dusting oneself off and resuming life as a convicted believer? It’s quick, it’s obvious and there’s no room for questioning or doubt.
But that’s not the kind of conversion I got.
After twenty years of deep doubt, my conversion was more like what Methodism founder John Wesley described as a “heart strangely warmed.” It came in the form of a two-word question. Over a period of weeks and months, I simply began to ask, again and again, “Why not?”