Grew up in the church, went every Sunday, never really felt any of it. Just going through the motions. Two months ago it finally hit different and I actually looked forward to reading. I'm not the same as I was.

He asked me what a verse meant at dinner and I actually had the answer. Didn't fumble it or change the subject like usual. He just nodded and kept reading. Meant everything to me.

Read it cover to cover more times than I can count. This time a verse I'd skipped a hundred times had the meaning right next to it. Honestly cried.