Prepare to meet a damsel in your journey of faith, for you will meet her in a place where faith is a foreigner to tongues, people no longer bow to prayers but lift their faces to glowing screens. The stars are no longer guardians, they are fed with data.

She is stranger to the weight of a Bible.She will not hear the stop of whispered prayers before bedtime or wake to the sound of hymns carried by morning air. She will not understand the way I once clung to faith like a child clutching the hem of a mother’s dress.

But she will know emptiness.

She will feel it in the quiet spaces between the noise, where knowledge has no answer. Preacher, she will search for meaning, only to meet reflections of herself. She will wonder why, with the world at her fingertips, she still feels a longing she cannot name.

And that is where you come in.

Warning! Do not meet her with heavy words or distant doctrines. Do not attempt to press scriptures into hands that have never held them. Instead, be light. Be warm. Be the quiet in a world that never stops speaking and allows her witness faith not as a lesson, but as a presence—something steady, something sure.

Show her that faith is no rulebook, but a rhythm. Like tides that gives kisses to the shore no matter how many times it is sent away. Like the wind that sings through trees, unseen but never absent. Like her heartbeat, steady even when too busy to notice.

Preacher— Teach her that some things cannot be downloaded, that love is not a line of code, that hope cannot be stored in a file. Teach her that the greatest truths are the ones we cannot see, cannot touch, cannot measure—only feel.

And when the question comes, the part where she asks why she should believe in something she cannot see, take her outside. Instruct her to close her eyes. Let her listen to the rustling leaves, the tweet and chirping of birds, the feel of the wind against her skin. Then say to her, softly:

“You cannot see these things, but you believe in them, don’t you?”

And maybe—just maybe—her heart will find its way home.

Written by Ri Verz