For as long as I can remember I’ve hard a hard time saying Jesus.

His name rarely came up in my childhood, as I come from a believer who didn’t really talk about his faith, and an atheist. So I didn’t grow up knowing Jesus, or His Father. Or knowing what to capitalize when talking about Jesus and God and Heaven and Christianity in general.

I still have trouble with capitalization.

But I can say Jesus. I can talk to Him. I can talk about Him and not roll my eyes or question my sanity.

It’s a weird thing to believe in God and Jesus and the Bible and Heaven.

The only way that I could believe in Him, to start to get to know Him, was to get out of my own way. To realize that He is bigger than me. That I don’t have the answers. That the things that happen… there are reasons for them.

And once I stopped trying to just trudge through things, head down, never looking back, I could actually see my life. Once I stepped out of the way, I could see my life through His eyes. And then, only then did I really see me.

You kind of have to see yourself in order to see Jesus.

Or, rather, you have to be able to see reality in order to see Jesus.

And to see him at work in your life you have to actually see your life.

And to do that, all I had to do was ask. To pray. To tell the sky above that I was ready. And since then I’ve started a relationship with Him. I’ve been able to see Him in every part of my life, and the world around me.

His name now rolls off my tongue, and leaves me with a smile. Always.

(thank you, lovely Corinne, for this beautiful post… for helping us to see ourselves so we can see Jesus)