We like to tell ourselves that everything is earned. That the possessions or reputation or status or success or whatever we have is because we deserve them based on our hard work or character or intelligence.

But that’s simply not true. Everything good we have can be traced back to someone else. (In the Christian view, that lineage of blessing eventually leads back to God himself).

Is time. Time is a non-renewable resource.

You can find ways to make more money. You can acquire more materials. You can hire fresh talent or strike up relationships with new partners. You can woo more clients or customers. You can explore new markets.  You can dream up new solutions or products.

But you can’t make more time.

Can be blinding. Disorienting. Even a little painful as you squint and shield your eyes. Anyone who has ever walked out of a movie theater into the summer sun knows what I mean.

So it is with walking out into the light of God. It can be temporarily blinding. And it’s usually uncomfortable for a deeper reason: You can now be seen.

Having spent most of your life in darkness, being seen feels vulnerable. You are exposed. You face the very real risk of being seen for who you truly are. You fear being unloved because you have done things that make you less lovable. Or perhaps entirely unlovable.

Belief is not mental assent to a list of doctrines. Belief is trust in a person.

It’s one thing to believe facts about Jesus; it’s another thing to trust him. It’s one thing to accept doctrine about Jesus; it’s another thing to entrust yourself to him. Doctrine matters, I suppose, but I’m beginning to suspect that it doesn’t matter as much as we suppose. It at least doesn’t carry as much real-world-weight as trust carries.

With condemnation or salvation?

Do you bring judgment, accusation, denunciation, disapproval, displeasure, criticism, and blame?

Or do you bring blessing, deliverance, pardon, emancipation, liberation, restoration, and grace?

The bad news is that far too many religious folk come to the world with all the condemnation they can muster. This stems from a misunderstanding of God as a score-keeping, punitive, and easily-angered Dictator.

“For God so resented the world.”

There’s a difference between seeing and looking.

Seeing begins with the eyes. Most of what we see is largely accidental. Something passes in front of us so that our eyes process the reflected light and send signals to our brain: A cat just ran across the street. The sun is reflecting on the water. That light bulb just burned out.

On the other hand, looking begins with the will. Looking is more intentional. What our eyes process is determined by where we choose to direct them, or what kind of thing we choose to focus them on: The book that we’re trying to finish for book club. The person that we’re in conversation with. Waldo.

Seeing just happens. Looking is a matter of desire.

Because you can’t know everything first-hand. You can’t experience everything. You can’t go everywhere. Or see everything. Or hear everything. Or touch everything. Or taste everything.

You can’t talk to everyone. Or read every book. Or attend every class. Or listen to every podcast. Or watch every documentary.

Until you are born again of the Spirit.

The thing about a womb is that it doesn’t seem like anything abnormal. Certainly not anywhere you’d choose to leave—if you could even understand that leaving was a possibility.

Imagine for a moment that you’re a fetus: The womb is your total reality. It’s nearly impossible to conceive of what it’s like “outside,” or that there even is an “outside,” let alone that this supposed “outside” is where you are meant to be.

A messy, painful, shocking, beautiful, paradigm-altering process. It’s a movement from comfort through discomfort into a new life. It’s a shift from one source of nourishment to another. It’s a relocation from a familiar, enclosed environment to a wider and wildly more expansive environment. It’s a transition from one state of existence into a fuller state of existence. It’s a graduation from being alive to being able to truly live. Nothing is ever quite the same afterward.

So it is with rebirth.

Sometimes that’s your only option. Sometimes that’s all you can muster up the courage to do. Sometimes that’s the only time that’s quiet enough. Sometimes that’s the only time you’re left alone and free. Sometimes the risks of daylight are just too high.

What will someone say if they see me? What will Jesus say if he sees me too clearly? What will I see in myself that I can’t bear to see?

We often give people like Nicodemus a bad rap. I think that’s unfair. At least he came to Jesus. I’m not sure how many other guys were on the Jewish ruling council, but none of them showed up. Whether they were uninterested or afraid or obstinate doesn’t matter: they didn’t show up. Nicodemus did.