An Organic Appetite

It was one thing for my Jewish father to marry my non-Jewish mother. It was another thing completely for both of them to become Christian within a month of each other eight years into their marriage. Let’s just say that the decision did not go down too well with the Jewish side of the family. (Imagine My Big Fat Greek Wedding without the happy ending.) A month after their conversion, I was conceived, and less than a year after my parents became Christian, I was welcomed into a world of religious tension. I didn’t know it at the time, but I became the bundle of glue that held the family together, because as upset as my Jewish grandmother was at my father, she wasn’t going to give up access to her only grandchild.

As a result of my parents’ backgrounds, I was raised in a Christian home with hues of Judaism. Think matza ball soup at Christmastime. I never knew how many gifts my Jewish grandmother was going to give- whether I would hit the jackpot with the stack-o-gifts that accompany Hanukkah, or receive the one big present that inadvertently acknowledged Christmas even though it was still wrapped in Hanukkah paper. The confusion ended when Grandma began giving the gift that embraced the fullness of my Jewish heritage: a check.

Throughout the years, I managed to learn a few random words in Yiddish, develop a quirky Jewish sense of humor, and inherit an undeniable sense of chutzpah. I developed a desired to know how these worlds that seemed so opposed in my childhood could ever get along. I also developed a hunger to know God. This hunger wasn’t anything I conjured up but rather seemed to be part of the “me-package,â€? like a strand of DNA, though it took years to fully manifest itself. My initial interaction with Scripture wasn’t so much out of longing as it was out of desperation. I was having terrible nightmares â€" the kind you can’t forget even when you’re an adult.

These night terrors continued for months. My parents held me. Prayed for me. Comforted me when they heard my screams. But the dreams didn’t stop until I made a personal discovery. Somehow as an eight-year-old, I figured out that if I read the bible before I went to bed, I would sleep soundly.

Two plus decades later, I’m sometimes tempted to shrug off my miracle cure as an oddity or merely chance, excerpt for the fact that those evening readings made God all the more real and personal. I’m humbled that God would so tenderly and intimately embrace a child with simple faith. And I am staggered to realize how God was preparing me, even then, to know him better.

Now there were a few years when I forgot about my experience as a young girl. I tried to run away from God and engaged in an extracurricular activity better known as partying like a rock star. But after a while, I returned to the routine I had learned at eight and began reading my bible again.

All too often I find myself tempted to live a distracted life. You know the kind- the one where within the busyness of life you still manage to perform the stand-up, sit-down, clap, clap, clap of regular church attendance, hope for a new nugget of knowledge or insight from the weekly sermon and check off a random, albeit short, list of acts of kindness.

That’s when the hunger appears in my belly and overtakes my soul, grumbling that there must be more. More of God not only to understand but discover.

Deep down inside, I still hunger for a true, pure relationship with the Organic God â€" the One True God.

While organic is usually associated with food grown without chemical-based fertilizers or pesticides, organic is also used to describe a lifestyle: simple, healthful, and close to nature. Those are all things I desire in my relationship with God. I hunger for simplicity. I want to approach God in childlike faith, wonder and awe. I long for more than just spiritual life but spiritual health â€" whereby my soul is not just renewed and restored but becomes a source of refreshment for others.

I want to discover God again, anew, in a fresh way. I want my love for him to come alive so that my heart dances at the very thought of him. I want a real relationship with him â€" a relationship that isn’t altered by perfumes, additives, chemicals, or artificial flavors that promise to make it sweeter, sourer, or tastier than it really is. I want to know a God who in all his fullness would allow me to know him. I want a relationship that is real, authentic, and life-giving even when it hurts. I want to know God stripped of as many false perceptions as possible. Such a journey risks exposure, honesty, and even pain, but I’m hungry and desperate enough to go there.

In some regards, the journey to know God isn’t too different from a first encounter with someone you’ve never met. I want to know what God looks like and what his interests are. I wan to know his likes and dislikes. I want to know what makes him tick and also what ticks him off. I want to fall in love all over again. I want to know God.

I want to know the Organic God.
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Taken from The Organic God by MARGARET FEINBERG (www.margaretfeinberg.com). Copyright © 2007 by Margaret Feinberg. Used by permission of Zondervan. Margaret can be reached at Margaret@margaretfeinberg.com. Her book releases in May.

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