It all began, for me, pointing away from Him, in a tight spot, an ugly cramped spot- where death seemed better, but hell already breathed it’s condemnation on me moment by moment. My friends included, but were not limited to:
It’s the story about when I first met Him… unworthy, desperate knee bent at the foot of a worthy King saying, “Yes, Lord, Yes! I see my way is wrong and riddled with death. I do, I do, I take Your life in exchange for mine.”
You see, when He held my attention for the first time, He’d already been speaking to me all my life… just like Romans 1:20 says, “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.”
without any excuse.
He drew me as I sat with a flood of tears held at bay within me. It wasn’t that they never came out, but rather they tormented and ruled me coming out sideways, securing my bondage, and multiplying the shame that accepted it so readily.
My feelings were shared (unwanted by the parties at hand) in selfish, destructive ways; in drunken and bitter ways. That’s when the tears had come out, and the anger, and all the pain.
Eighteen and I had let the wind be my guide. It had tossed me to and fro into one ditch and then another.
My mind was so familiar with depravity that it scared even me.
I longed for a right thought, a right desire, a right feeling.
So, after a long string of events, I made some out of character, different, life -giving choices. I defied the shame and thought, “Maybe I am not cursed to this, maybe”. and there I sat- in a room of people singing ,”Jesus Loves Me”.
Now, I was NOT loveable and so this song seemed like a high wish- something like a fairy tale, maybe this was the dust that would work? Since all the others had failed.
So, I sat there. I mouthed the words and…
He came to me. Right there, He came in that simple song.
He sang His love over me. I knew that I knew that I knew it was Him.
Now listen, I knew I was a sinner; I grew up in the Bible Belt South. But I HAD NO IDEA WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT. What! Go to church? Walk an aisle? Say a prayer?
There was no religious dust that could be sprinkled to fix me.
But here. He was. The Ancient One. And He was singing His love over me. And it, meaning His love, would require all of me and I was willing. He was asking me to marry Him and the answer was Yes, an unwavering yes.
I had not seen and yet I had believed.
I had the desire of my heart that I had no ability to muster on my own:
I had a right thought: He loves me!
I had a right desire: Jesus!
I had a right feeling: tears that flowed as hope flooded my heart.
This is the story of how I escaped the grips of fairy dust and began doing hard things, yes, hard things.
Because, dear reader, don’t be mistaken. He had no fairy dust, wands, or potions.
He came. I whispered yes.
And hence the end of this story, which was quite truly:
A New Beginning.