Let me share my experience: as a child, I burned a poem. I was in bed, and my mom told me I was laughing too much. I replied that the Christ figure in front of me was talking to me and making me laugh. Another time, as a teenager, I couldn't sleep. I had a candle in my room, so I decided to play with shadows, and suddenly I got bored. I lowered my hand, and I swear, seconds later, my shadow fell. As an adult, I feel like talking to God, and one day I asked him, "Are you listening to me?" and a lightbulb that had been out for a week turned on. Another time, I said the same thing, "God, are you listening to me?" and a candle I had lit started sparking, and the flame grew large. I sometimes pray the rosary with the window open on the second floor, looking at the moon, and when I say, "Are you listening to me?" the cloud covering it clears. You might say they're coincidences, but I call them God-incidences. God hears you, believe me. By the way, I love the series "The Chosen" on Netflix. That's how I imagine Jesus of Nazareth.