After I was at college for a year or so, I realized that my going to a liberal arts college was a very good thing. I really did not know what I wanted out of an education. I did not know what I was supposed to do with my life. A liberal arts program does not assume that a person should know these things or perceive it as a problem if a person does not. That is, after all, the point of education. Or one of them. At least in my book.
So anyway, I also could not have told you some 15 and a half years ago that a church that takes the Incarnation seriously is a very good thing for me. The Incarnation, of course, being the idea that God really did become incarnate in this world. Actual flesh and blood. How it is possible for an infinite God to become an incredibly finite infant eludes me. Good evidence that I’m not God.
The implications, however, effect me profoundly. First of all, God is in the house. Second, I can see God. Now, you are going to ask how I know that it was God, and I am going to tell you that you ask too many questions. Why is fresh baked bread good? Why are three hours in the woods magnificent? What makes the laughter of my daughter sound like angels singing? (Ok, a little hyperbole there, but you get the point.) It is, if you ask me, because God is in those moments. I saw it with my own two eyes.