It's funny. A year and a half ago I didn't want anything to do with God or Jesus or the Holy Spirit. Being in church literally nauseated me. Seeing others worship in love made me want scream. The Bible was empty and void of all meaning. Hopelessness and desolation filled me up and overflowed into the rest of my life. I didn't like my husband. I didn't like my job. I didn't like my life. Satan had convinced me that God was big and mean, and he was beginning to convince me that Christianity was all a big fat show.
It really wasn't funny at all.
Then I found Him. He didn't find me. He didn't have to. He never lost me. First in little pieces. A verse touched my hardened heart. Worship here and there wasn't so awful. But the breakthrough came when I began to believe in the power of the very name of Jesus. When I began to believe that He was real and active and moving in my life. When I opened my eyes and saw Him hovering around me - protecting me, loving me, seeing all of me, even the most grotesque corners of my soul that no one was or is to this day aware of, and loving me so completely through it all. When I accepted the power the Holy Spirit offered me to stand up and say, "Enough is enough. This is my home, and my life, and my heart, and my marriage. And I WILL live completely in the power and freedom of Christ because I can...because through it all He has guaranteed me that much."
Then I began to slip again, falling back into my old selfishness - my wallowing. And someone asked me what I was so angry about and maybe I should tell God about it instead of blaming everyone else for it. So I did. I was comfortable enough with Him by then. I yelled and cried and rolled around on my bed. I spent a good 3 hours just throwing a fit at the feet of God. I told Him all about how sad it made me that my life didn't look anything like I dreamed it would. How I didn't want to be a preacher's wife. How I thought it was stupid that He was making me. How I was tired of making sacrifices - of sacrificing everything I wanted. And I was tired of feeling guilty for throwing such a fit about something that seemed so little compared to what others around me were going through.
He spoke softly, gently showing me what He knew I would never see if it was thrown in my face. Reconciliation not condemnation. That's what conviction was for. Bending of the knees...I physically had to get on my knees before Him to really understand the freedom that was granted me in exchange for my submission. Beautiful reconciliation.
Then He made me fall in love with Him, made me long to know more about Him, made me want to sleep with His Word because I ached so deeply for the power it secreted. He opened my mind to understand His Truths. Truths that I will never again question - because He showed me in a very personal way, and they are real in my heart and in my life.
I am far from perfect. And I don't read my Bible every day. And I don't pray like I should. And I'm humiliatingly self-consumed. But I love my Jesus. And I have tasted the kindness of the Lord. And someday I will gladly bow at his feet. And I will take my hair and the most beautiful perfume heaven has to offer and wash those beautiful, beautiful feet. Because I really do love my Jesus that much. And somehow, through the mighty power of that same Jesus, I will learn to love Him even more.