Sunday, April 15, 2012

Post-puberty independece

When I was 18 I had a revelation.  I'd somewhat been living a double life up to that point and I was ready to make a clear cut choice between which way I was going to live.  I chose to abandon the "Godly/good girl" in me and I literally made a black and white decision to live on the wild side.  You see, I was hurt, broken and had my own name that I wanted to make for myself.  I'd dabbled in sin before but this time I was making a declaration to myself and the world.  I'd been hurt by spiritual leaders in my life up to this point and I felt justified in turning my back on what I thought was truth.  Thankfully, this phase only lasted a couple of months.  Not too long, and I'm grateful for that, but long enough to feel dissatisfied and bored with the world's offerings.  Sure, it was a thrill at first and freeing to finally not care what other people thought, I'm not going to lie.  But every weekend began to look the same, with the exception of coming closer and closer to putting myself in danger physically and emotionally.

I remember one day driving home from a place where I'd fallen asleep passed out the night before and I was angry with God.  I was angry because I was not satisfied.  I was angry because I thought I'd turned my back and made this decision -once and for all- that I was going to go my own way yet, the anger was there because I could not be left alone.  The spiritual numbness wore off and my conscious the Holy Spirit was rising up all at once.  I was on I-485 and I remember clearly looking up at the overcast sky yelling at God and telling Him how mad I was and that I didn't want Him in my life and that I wanted to do my own thing because I had been hurt by what I thought was Him in the past.  The problem with my spite is that I had been drifting on the coattails of other peoples' faith for my entire life.  I'd been putting leaders on a pedestal where I was trying to equate them with Godly perfection. I'd experienced deep disappointment, mistrust and manipulation and I was pointing it all toward God.  For some reason, in this exact moment while driving, my mind was instantly flooded with a worship song.  It was ridiculous.  I was so confused and mad because I couldn't stop the ringing of the song in my head while I was up on my own pedestal being angry.  Unfortunately, I cannot tell you the name of the song, BUT I can tell you that something supernatural happened in the following 15 minutes.  By the time I got home I was the most confused and torn up person I've ever seen.  I sat at the kitchen counter on a bar stool and was shaking on the inside.  My dad walked in.  Out of my mouth came the most honest and vulnerable statement that I'd ever spoken up to that point.  "I've been getting drunk".  More words followed but they don't matter today.  What matters today is that my dad loved me.  He did not rebuke me.  He loved me.  He did not punish me.  He loved me.  He did not stuff spiritual jargon down my throat.  He listened to me and loved me in my mess.  The grace and mercy that I received that day marks the beginning of my falling in love with Jesus.  For myself. 

Almost 13 years have passed since then.  Some amazing things have taken place in my life.  I've fallen in love, I've married, worked some amazing jobs, travelled the world, I've given birth to two beautiful children, etc.  But, I leave you with the tease that I truly believe that I've just begun to really LIVE in the last couple of months. 

...and it all started with another deep, dark and vulnerable confession.

"He who conceals his sins does not prosper, but whoever confesses and renounces them finds mercy" -Proverbs 28:13

"Therefore confess your sins to eachother and pray for eachother so that you may be healed"
-James 5:16



    

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