The Reluctant Convert Who Was Already Pursued

In 1929, C.S. Lewis sat in his rooms at Magdalen College, Oxford, convinced that God was closing in on him. He had spent years building intellectual fortifications against faith — philosophy, mythology, pure reason — yet something kept dismantling them from the inside. Fellow scholars like J.R.R. Tolkien and Hugo Dyson chipped away at his defenses during late-night walks along Addison's Walk. Lewis later described himself as "the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England," dragged kicking into the Kingdom.

What stunned Lewis was the realization that God had not been waiting for him to arrive. Every book that had stirred his imagination since childhood, every stab of longing he called "Joy," every argument that had troubled his atheism — these were not accidents. They were the fingerprints of a God who had been watching, pursuing, and preparing long before Lewis ever turned around.

Nathanael sat under his fig tree, perhaps studying Torah, perhaps praying in what he thought was a private moment with the Almighty. When Jesus said, "I saw you," it shattered Nathanael's skepticism in an instant. The One from Nazareth — that dismissed little town — already knew him completely.

This is the staggering claim of the Gospel: before we ever begin searching for God, He has already seen us in our most hidden places. Our doubts do not offend Him. Our skepticism does not slow Him down. He calls us by name because He has known us all along.