As an adolescent, I struggled with questions many young people face. What vocation was I going to choose? What kind of man did I want to marry? And, as a daughter of a church-active family, when did I know I was a Christian?

I was blessed with loving parents and an older brother, but my father, to whom I was close, died when I was thirteen. I don’t remember questioning God about why he should die. Part of my family’s life had included going to “funeral homes” and staying for a while to comfort the grieving. Visiting wasn’t particularly scary. The adults visited and reminisced and laughed a lot. Death was just a part of the community’s life.

What I missed was certainty. I wanted to know I was a Christian. Yes, I remember a time when I was nine or ten when I had a quiet but sudden “quickening,” a feeling of knowing God’s presence. Probably God comes on many of us that way.

No doubt I was influenced by growing up in an age of revival meetings. Perhaps I assumed a coming together with God had to be through a revival type experience. We Christians, believers in a future life, nevertheless are sometimes victimized by ways that moved mightily in the past but may be past their prime. We forget that Christ’s religion is forward-going. Past ways fit some but can, if we aren’t careful, close us to new ways.

Jesus met so many different people. All of them were individuals. They chose the way he preached, then went on to help others know Him. Mary and Martha, Peter and Paul, missionaries and, later, food bank operators, food servers and teachers—the list is endless, and it’s all individual in the ways we meet and serve. As Christians, we have this forward life—we have never arrived, but that is good. If we understand that we’ve never arrived, we are wary about giving complete allegiance to any human movement or allow ourselves to be stuck in past gear.