The Scholar

You don't do borrowed faith. Before you'll sing it, you need to know it's true — and that's not coldness, whatever anyone told you. It's reverence. You've felt the difference between a worship set that moves the room and a single verse that rearranges your year, and you'd take the verse every time.

People think they know you: the one with the answers. What they miss is why. Somewhere along the way you decided God could survive your questions — so you asked all of them. You read the footnotes. You stayed up with the hard doctrines. And quietly, without announcing it, you became the person others come to when their faith stops making sense. You're not the fire. You're the foundation the fire is built on.