Category: Blog

I’ve been sitting with the idea of a ‘personal G♡d’ – something I’ve always been told, but I’m beginning to realise I never really asked what it means.

Is G♡d like a person? Can we talk to Him like we talk to a friend or a parent? Does He really care when we’re hurting?

These are big questions. And honestly, I don’t have all the answers. But I’m starting to wonder if there’s more to this than I used to think.

Talking to G♡d, not just about G♡d

In the Bible, people speak to G♡d like they know G♡d. They cry out. They ask for help. They say thank you. Jesus even taught people to pray like children talking to a loving parent.

That sounds personal, right?

But it also raises questions. G♡d isn’t a person like you or me. We don’t know if He feels things the way we do. So what does it mean to say He loves, or listens, or suffers with us?

Some people say we’re just using words we understand. That when we say G♡d loves, it’s kind of like human love, but also way beyond it. It’s not exactly the same, but it’s still real.

Still, that makes me wonder: can love be real if it doesn’t feel anything? And that’s led me to another question I didn’t expect to ask…

Does G♡d hurt when we hurt?

For a long time, many people believed that G♡d couldn’t suffer. That He was too perfect to feel pain. They said if He could be hurt, then He would be weak like us.

But after terrible things happened in the world, like wars, injustice, and deep human pain, some people began to ask: What kind of love doesn’t suffer? How could He really care if He never feels pain with us?

One writer, Jürgen Moltmann, said something I can’t stop thinking about:

A G♡d who cannot suffer cannot love.

That hits me hard.

If love is real, maybe it has to hurt sometimes. Maybe G♡d isn’t distant or watching from far away. Maybe G♡d is right here in the middle of our pain. Loving us from the inside.

Other writers have said something similar. Kazoh Kitamori said G♡d’s love comes from pain. Abraham Heschel wrote about a G♡d who cries with people. They believe G♡d isn’t cold or untouched, but full of deep feeling.

Where does this leave me?

I don’t know how it all works. I don’t know exactly what it means to say G♡d feels. But I hope it’s true that G♡d does.

I hope G♡d is close to those who are hurting. I hope G♡d hears us, even when we don’t have words. I hope love, real love, is at the centre of who G♡d is.

And maybe love like that doesn’t stand far away. Maybe that Love steps into our mess, sits with us, and says, “I’m here.”

That’s the kind of G♡d I want to believe in.

I’m so glad you’ve found your way here.

Neophyte was born from a place of both wonder and weariness – a space between longing and loss, between sacred questions and a deep, abiding trust. Like many of you, I’ve wrestled with rigid doctrines, felt disillusioned by institutional religion, and carried doubts I wasn’t always sure I was allowed to voice.

And yet, I have never been more certain of G♡d’s presence.

This blog is my offering. Not as an expert, but as a fellow traveller. A neophyte in the truest sense: a beginner, a learner, a seeker who chooses to walk forward not in confusion, but in faith.

Here at Neophyte, as I journey through Scripture Studies and deepen my understanding of Systematic Theology, I’ll be sharing reflections for the weary, the curious, the deconstructed, and the rekindled – offered with honesty, faith, and an open heart.

My prayer is that Neophyte becomes a quiet companion on your spiritual journey. A place where you can breathe. A space where your questions are honoured. A path where G♡d is not a concept to conquer, but a Presence to encounter – mysterious, merciful, and close.

If you’ve ever felt too broken, too uncertain, or too burnt out to begin again – you belong here.

Let’s walk this sacred path together.