If you had asked me yesterday morning if I considered myself a Christian, I would have said no. Today, that has changed. Some in my church have said that they see their lives in two parts: the part before accepting Jesus, and the part after. I can understand that.

The most amazing thing about this whole event is that God is so much bigger than I ever would have thought. Obviously, to ascribe limits to a being of infinite power would be silly, and yet I'm guessing that I'm not the only one to do so. Or perhaps "limits" is the wrong word, more like "expectations". I expected God to conform to my preconceived notions of Him. And yet in the end, of course, He showed Himself to me in a far different manner than I ever would have thought of.

Of course, I assumed some sort of conversion was coming. Having opened myself up to the rationality of God's existence, I thought it wouldn't make any sense for Him to drag me this far, and not take me that last step of the way. But then I began to think that the final step was up to me, that if I simply said "I am a Christian" it would be true. And yet something in me balked at that, so I avoided that course. And it was correct. The bible states that one must believe with the heart and confess with the mouth that Jesus is lord, but my heart simply was not in the right place.

At any rate, here's basically how it happened, although I'm still going through all of the implications. I was heading to NYU for a rehearsal when, leaving the subway, I came across a common sight (at least here in NYC): a beggar woman, hunkered down at the entrance to the subway station, with a sign asking for change. Now, I see people in this situation quite literally every day (unless I don't leave my apartment). I didn't even bother to read her sign, or acknowledge her presence. And yet her desperate expression lingered in my mind; as I was walking away, I sent back the honest, and earnest prayer "May God find you in better circumstances before long."

I couldn't get her face out of my head. She broke my heart.

Of course I had to thrust the whole thing to the back of my mind soon enough, needing to rehearse, professional obligations being what they are. And yet something lingered. And yesterday during both sermons, it came back with a vengeance. The first was a sermon on prayer, the second on suffering. And during both I couldn't get this woman out of my head, and my heart broke for her all over again.

I realize that this is probably the first truly unselfish desire I've ever had: to sincerely desire something specific for someone who has NOTHING to do with my story. I'm not saying that it's selfish to want things for friends and family, or for acquaintances and colleagues. And yet, those people are still part of our own personal narratives. To see a suffering person in the world and feel a deep sadness for him or her, that is what God's love is. And to feel it for myself, well, that was it. Game over.

So why this specific woman? I walked back to the same subway station after the rehearsal, and where she had been before, another person was now, again with a sign asking for change, and passing him, this time I felt nothing, as usual. And yet this all misses the point. One cannot really feel for a "problem" or a "situation" or even have real, deep love for a "group". And yet to love a complete stranger for the simple fact that they are human, well, I think that's the secret to God's eternal love. And I have a long way to go, in that regard. I encountered a moment of it, and that moment has changed my life, but what did I actually "do"? Well, I sent a prayer her way, but that was all. The rest, if I am steadfast, will come in time.

So what now? I have no idea. And that's a beautiful thing. In this journey God has never failed to surprise. As one friend said: "You're in for a wild ride."