"Wait..." voiced the back seat accusingly,
"Is God real?"
"Yes." We quickly replied in unison. Mom with a glanced towards my brother in the rearview mirror.
"Oh. For a second, I thought it was going to be like Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny!" He laughed at himself in his new voice.
I wasn't lying, but felt compelled to defend our blasphemy. Staring out the passenger window instead, I concentrated on Texas-highway and how much my brother has changed this year.
What I wanted to say was that God is about as real as anything else, but WAY more real than Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny.
Bible stories typically aren't less believable than what I could see at this computer. The difficult part about continually accepting Him, is that the ways in which He manifests tend to involve parts of ourselves we are least willing to acknowledge- our weaknesses.
When I was very young, God was Perfection. I was standing in the lunch-line barely cognizant of my classmates resolving that I would never sin again... again.
In Junior High, God was Truth. I could know him and I was very close. After all, my teachers, parents, grandparents, and youth pastor did.
In High School, God was Justice. The adults in my life didn't know him after all, and their hardships were a result of their mistakes. I would be an exception- except when I didn't mind the consequences.
In college, God was Mercy. I had never known a God that would allow such ideas and behavior to be a part of who I was. I had freedom and, luckily, plenty of time to be forgiven.
I'm not sure who God is today, maybe peace or patience, but I know that He is here if for no other reason than the presence of tension in my life when I resist changes I must grow through.
Changes like my little brother growing up.
That's as real as it gets.
