I was in college at the time and meeting with one of the dozens of Christian groups on campus. I was fresh out of mission work and was feeling like I was the best guy in the damn room.
But something was aching at me. Nobody cared that I’d been to Africa and helped out poor people in the name of Jesus. Shouldn’t I get some kind of acknowledgement?
Something deeper though gnawed on me. I knew that I was taking pride in something that deserved to be a footnote in my life.
And then the resentment came. It was strong and palpable and I hated it but hated the people around me even more.
And I knew it was wrong.
One night I cried out to God to take it all away from me.
And then I fell asleep.
In the middle of the night my lips were chapped. And something was off. You know how you get uncomfortable sometimes and you’re not sure why? It was kind of like that, except stranger.
And then a miracle happened. My pride, my resentment, just left my body. It was like a breath leaving my mouth, but it wasn’t my breath. To be honest, I’m not sure exactly what it was, but after it was gone, my pride and resentment left me.
I can only suspect that it was a spirit of some kind, for lack of a better explanation. Nobody really witnessed it at the time (my roommate was asleep at the time). So I have no proof beyond my own story.
There are times when I have my doubts about God and the Christian meaning of life. I wonder if God is even there at all.
But then I remember incidents like this and I realize that He is there. He may not be exactly as modern Christians describe Him, but there is something.
And my faith is restored.