Prior to my conversion I had always felt, to some degree at least, that there was a longing within my heart to know God in the way my parents seemed to know him, but I was afraid to pursue it in case I might be disappointed. Many times God had tapped at the window-pane of my soul. Like times just before bedtime when I would kneel to pray - something I had been taught as a child - and the feeling would come over me that I needed to take spiritual realities more seriously. Even in my most rebellious times, I would never slip under the blankets without saying a prayer. It was a simple and short prayer recited very quickly: