For me, reading Anne Rice's Vampire novels was always a spiritual experience. The way she would wrestle out questions about life, morals, and God through her characters left me in wonder.
I was particularly drawn to her story "The Tale of the Body Thief". In it the vampire Lestat, after hundreds of years of being a vampire, longs to experience human feelings again. He is gifted with the opportunity by a gentleman who can swap souls. He agrees to a 24 hour switch.
Within moments of the transformation, he regrets his decision. The pressure in his bowels revolts him. His bad breath makes him nauseous. He is overwhelmed by the limitations of his new body. The simplest tasks require so much effort. He desires nothing more than to reclaim his vampiric body with its' preternatural strength, senses, and eternal youth.
As I read it, I wondered if Jesus experienced anything like that; going from immortal to mortal, from timeless to present, limitless to limited. What was that like?
I read a poem on a blog recently that addressed this question. I think in general I am a little too boorish to appreciate poetry properly, but this one really spoke to me.