“‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’” (Luke 15: 31-32 NIV)
A few have asked how this happened. How I, a woman everyone knew was happy in her path, would come back to God.
The answer seems simple but it was years in the making.
I spent 30 years denying God and Christ.
That’s a long time.
I won’t lie and say I wasn’t happy with the other religions I explored. I learned a lot of history and saw some crazy awesome stuff. But nothing ever felt right.
Those other religions felt like a pair of too tight jeans or a bra thats strap keeps falling off. I tried. I would talk to those Gods and Goddesses and look for a connection like I had with God when I was younger.
But no matter what, I was definitely NOT Christian. I knew the bible as ammunition. Every time a Christian said something I would know the verse to expose them as a hypocrite.
I was angry. So very very angry.
Then I met a person. This person was broken, just like me. Broken in a way that I could relate to. We started talking and became friends.
This friend would talk about church and God. But he didn’t go to church and hadn’t in years. And I think most everyone needs a gathering place with their fellow worshipers. You get too much in your own head otherwise. So I encouraged him to go to church. And he did. Then I started going with him. I said “Even a heathen like me can find something from church.”
Well, my goodness, this heathen certainly did.
The pastor of the church we attend gives sermons that touch my soul. And most times I would start crying during them. So I always had my tissues and would blot away my tears. And then ditty bop on back to my heathen ways – not even thinking about the words he’d said.
Until one day. One day when he gave a sermon that literally left me sobbing in my seat. He spoke of God’s love and Jesus and how even he, the pastor of this church had moments when he would sit at his table and say “I NEED you, Jesus.”
As he spoke those words with such love and honest I realized I needed Jesus too. It was like the dam burst and I realized how much I missed Jesus. How much I needed His grace and joy and love in my life.
I think I can safely say that he missed me too. And that, my friends, is all I need to know.