Apologia

For Christmas this year my father gave me a collection of sentimental tems I hadn't seen in years. They were in a box with a photo of my Grandpa Pete and my Dad on the back porch of the house I grew up in on the front of it. The box included family photos, a framed serenity prayer with pressed flowers behind its glass, my beloved Grandmas rhinestone jewelry, and the bible I used on the rare occasions we went to church. I was completely overwhelmed by what the box contained, and that my Father was the one to present it to me completely broke me. I have the small leather bible in front of me now. It smells like vacation bible school. I am trying to recall now, how I felt about Jesus then. I was very good at the memory verses, my hand was the first up to answer questions asked about the bible story the teacher had just taught. (I'm a huge nerd and can't barely help myself now, and most definitely couldn't then.) I was hoping I'd taken notes, circled verses that might help bring me back to my child like relationship with Christ, but no. I can't remember if I believed in him or if I knew how much he loved me. I do know I was taught that he did. My Uncle Ronnie was the pastor at the Mount Comfort Bible church where Vacation bible school was held. I loved and respected him desperately. So I doubt I thought anything offered to me from him was untrue, and I'm sure I knew innately that it was of Love in its capitalised word form.

We as human beings drift towards self reliance. I had not sought God. Whatever truth I had embraced about Jesus as an adolescent, I was a continent away from by my late teens. Shades of dark circumstances during highschool alerted my intuition of an approaching storm. Fight or flight took hold of my senses. I ran in the wrong direction. I ran towards whatever inebriated me against the pain I was feeling. A bottle, a Man, a pipe... (Many years in between) My drift towards self reliance had turned into a violent sprint bent on self destruction and had given me a permanent address in my own hell.  

But God.
That is the only sentence that explains my rescue out of a clutch that would have tossed me behind prison bars, or left me dead somewhere. Taking much delight out of keeping my soul in its breathless dark.

The Holy Spirit, maybe prompted by the prayers of my Mother, maybe invited by my own Cry's in the dark, maybe still lingering inside me from when I was a child and my Uncle had told me of a three personal God who loved me so very much. Perhaps I had invited Jesus into my heart then... I don't know, that's not the important part. What's important for me to tell you, is that I know the Holy Spirit brought me to my knees one day. The best-worst day of my life. And instead of going left towards my house in hell, I went right towards my Mothers home and surrendered to God. I "gave up the Ghost" as my Grandma had begged me to do so often. I'm looking at her rhinestone jewelry right now, and the picture of my Grandpa, and my little bible I had open and read from out loud to my Uncle Ronnie.
They knew Jesus Christ as their personal savior and friend. I know him that way now too. My relationship with Christ has transformed me completely. I have peace. I am no longer restless because i rest in God. I feel loved, and am able to love others in a way I could not have imagined before. I understand why I wanted to be near those family members so badly. It was the light of Jesus Christ in them.

They would all be so happy I'm writing this testimony to tell someone who is scared, who is exhausted from battling their fears, who can't win the battle to do what's right no matter what the consequence or cost. I couldn't either, and I didn't. Hope rests in a loving God who longs to have you as his child. I have victory today in Jesus. I am free because Christ lives in me.


(Grinning)

I read the Serenity prayer in front of me; God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. And I believe God will grant me the supernatural ability to do those things.