At my wife’s suggestion, I recently read her copy of Flirting with Faith: My Spiritual Journey from Atheism to a Faith-Filled Life
What sets this story apart from that of Lee Strobel or Josh McDowell is Ball was not on a spiritual quest either to find the truth of Jesus or to disprove it only to be convinced. She was aware of the gospel and the scriptures, yet had come to the conclusion that neither were true. Her regular church attendance was due only to the desire of her husband and children.
Ball’s encounter with God did not, as so many Christian stories do, end with a new car, nicer clothes, more stuff and a TV show. Instead, she went from a very comfortable upscale life to loss of income, loss of job, husband’s loss of job, loss of savings and a child afflicted with an undiagnosable illness. God did not swoop down and give her a bunch of Christianese; He swooped in and gave her himself.
Speaking of Christianese, Flirting with Faith is, thankfully, completely devoid of it. Her story is told just as she lived it, with all the growing pains, simple faith and lack of vocabulary one would expect from a new convert not grown in the church greenhouse. Especially encouraging is the simplicity of faith in which Joan walked when learning to obey the Bible. It will challenge and convict all those but the closest to God.
One example of the “fall out” from Joan’s conversion is the effect it had on her husband, Martin, who was a solid believer, but with a less than active faith. She relayed the numerous times that she had peppered him with all the standard skeptic’s questions about the Bible, Noah’s ark, and the like. His simple, non-argumentative response always ranged along, “It’s in the Bible, so I believe it.” As she grew, he grew and the first step was in an unlikely place: Ephesians 5. She writes:
I know that he used to read the Bible a lot before we met, but I guess this bit must have gone by him.
“It says right here. I have to submit to you, and you have to be the head of the household.”
Martin looked at me like I had three heads, trying to decide how to respond to this latest wackiness. “Well,” he paused, thinking. “I don’t want you to submit to me.”
“Me neither. But it says it right here, and if we’re going to live this thing, I think we’ve got to be in it all the way.”
I can see how random this was. And now that I have learned how differently people approach their understanding of what the Bible says to them, and how they react to it, I find this independent choice to respond to this scripture literally is even more fascinating. But this was not some fallible human telling me what I was supposed to do, or a rule some church was throwing down at me. Best I could tell, these instructions were coming from the Big Guy himself, and I was ready to say yes to whatever he put in front of me.
“Okay,” Martin said. “Here is my first command.”
He certainly shifted quickly from not to yes on this one, I thought, bracing myself for what would come next.
“My first command is…that we do everything like we’ve always done it.” (pg. 59, emphasis in original)
This book is a good book for understanding how many seekers approach life and faith. It is also good for those who are seeking. Flirting is a “Read this and tell me what you think” kind of conversation starter.
It’s also a good book to be reminded of the simple faith you might have had when you first came to know God. A faith that might have gotten smothered in the ensuing complexities of life. Isn’t it odd how so many who have “walked with God” for a long time sometimes find themselves actually walking away from Him? There are some reminders here of what the early days were like.
You can order Flirting with Faith and more through the links below. You pay the same low price and I get a small commission.
