Forgiven and loved

Six years ago at this time, I was riding in a car with tears streaming down my face. Prayers were said, phone calls were made, and a decision was reached. This was the night that I gave my life to Jesus and joined the wonderful family of God.

Growing up in a Christian home, I think most things were easier when it came to learning about God. I always knew where the books of the Bible were from having "Bible drills." I sang an abundance of VBS songs, which I later learned the meanings to. I could tell you all about the stories in the Bible, including my favorite: Baalam and his talking donkey. But despite my elementary Biblical knowledge, the songs I knew, and my hundreds of Sundays in church, something was still missing.

No matter how many Bible verses you memorize, stories you tell, or songs you sing, it's all in vain without the understanding that you're a sinner in desperate need of a savior. This isn't something you realize right away; it takes some growing, some learning, and some serious consideration. It wasn't until a revival church service when a preacher asked if I was saved that I realized that maybe I wasn't.

As tears brimmed my eyes on the car ride home, mom began asking me questions about that night at church, what the preacher said, and what I thought about it. As a thirteen year old, I knew what was right and wrong, but somehow I kept wasting opportunities to give in to God's amazing grace. Looking back, I think I was afraid that I had to be perfect. Perfection is still something that I have yet to achieve.

Finally my mom asked me, "If you died tonight, would you go to Heaven?" At that moment, I whispered that I wasn't sure and began to cry. Once I came to this realization, I called my daddy and we all prayed together. Finally, my decision was made.

Everybody made their way to the church, including my Grandad. I firmly believe that my Grandma was somehow, some way, looking down on me too, smiling with joy and sending hugs through other people.While we waited for my daddy to arrive, we sang some of my favorite hymns. Per Grandad's request, "Coming Home" was sung. Although I look back on my baptism and giggle because we sang a "funeral song," I also am happy because that was for Grandad, and probably Grandma too.

Once Daddy, Stephanie, and Charles, who got in trouble for leaving work, arrived, it was time for my baptism. So around 11:30 pm on August 23, 2007, I was baptized by my daddy into God's family. As I was lifted out of the cold water, I felt the weight of sin, worry, and guilt fall away. Everyone gathered around for hugs and a prayer and I left the church feeling whole, new, and forgiven.

Fast forward six years: I am still nowhere near perfect, but I strive to grow closer to God every day. My relationship with God started with the fear of hell. What started as fear has grown to love. Of course, hell is still a fearful thing, but that isn't the only reason I follow God anymore. I follow Him because He loves me, gave His Son for me, understands that I will constantly mess up and fail Him, and yet still provides me with Him unfailing love and unending grace. For that I am forever indebted and forever thankful.

I have been through a lot in the last six years. I finished middle school, started and finished high school, and started college. I have been through tough situations and temptations with friends. I have laughed and I have cried over the crazy trials of this life. My health has gone up and down, along with my emotions, over and over and over again. But despite this crazy life, my countless flaws, and the constant struggle that comes with being human, God has never once left my side.

Jesus holds my hand and walks with me every single day. When I push Him away, He holds me closer. When I fail Him, He holds out His hand to life me back up. When I cry out His name, in pain from this life, He listens and responds no matter how silly the need. I could not be where I am or who I am without God. I am amazed every day by His patience with me as I navigate life and strive to find my place in this world. But one thing is for certain, no matter where I go or what I do, if I am running towards Jesus, I will always find happiness, peace, and rest.

Your love never fails, it never gives up, never runs out on me. 

What I can before I can't.

As I reflect back on this last week, I realize several things:

1.) I am insane for staying as busy as I do.
2.) I am really excited for school and my new job.
3.) I am extremely grateful for all the opportunities that I have been given.
4.) I am thankful for each and every friend and family member who support me in various ways.
5.) I AM TIRED.

As a young woman with medical issues and the desire to go, go, go, I sometimes have trouble balancing life. I want to be a normal college student. I want to have fun, hang out with friends, eat weird foods, and not require a normal amount of sleep. But I need to be a little abnormal. I need to have fun of course, but I also need consistency in my life with sleep, eating, and how much I do in one day. I can't give away all my spoons at once. (http://stacieelainelawrence.blogspot.com/2012/11/how-do-you-use-your-spoons.html) So clearly most often what I want and what I need are two very different things.

Sometimes I feel sick when I overdo it, but sometimes I feel lame sitting at home in my pajamas on a Friday night when I could have been out with friends. Sometimes, like today, my body aches from the constant activity, but sometimes I feel nothing because I did nothing. While I have to be considerate of what my body needs and how much it can handle, I have come to the conclusion that I want to do what I want while I can before I can't anymore. I want to go, run, laugh, eat, jump, and smile while I am able before I am unable to do the things that I enjoy so much.

Perhaps this is why I have loved to be busy from the time I was a child. All through my years in school, mom drove me all over the city, county, state, and sometimes country to do the things I desired to participate in. I have been to Jabez, KY I don't know how many times in my 4-H career. I have been to Florida and California to vacation. I have gone out of state for youth events with my church. I have even invaded my friend's vacations for more to do. And when I couldn't be traveling the country, I traveled Richmond like crazy. Once I got my license, I was never home. My parents still sometimes claim that the only time I am home is when I am sleeping. I'm off making memories every second I get.

Maybe I just knew, deep down, at an early age that I couldn't always be able to. Maybe I knew that someday my 'cans' would run out and my 'cant's' would grow larger and larger. Maybe I knew that I needed to live it up while I'm young and agile and not waste a precious moment of energy or desire. Whatever the reason, I am glad that I didn't just sit idly and watch the world pass me by.

When I am old and unable to move without pain, I don't want to regret not doing anything. Because more often than not, you regret the things you didn't do more than the things that you did. When I am old, I want to look at the giggling children and smile, because I once giggled with my friends too. When I see the crazy middle schoolers running from each other or standing outside the movie theater taking silly faced selfies, I want to laugh because I took a few (hundred) myself. When I see a teen driver behind the wheel with the music up loud, I want to sing because I remember those nights with the windows rolled down and the music up loud. When I see college students experiencing life for the first time and having fun like they never have before, I want to think back to these years with fondness.

So while I must make intelligent decisions for my health's sake, I know I must always make intelligent decisions for fun's sake, for memory making, and to fulfill my wondering and 'what if...' For tonight, I will take my medicine, apply heat to my shoulder, and curl up in bed, hoping to fall asleep with ease. But when tomorrow comes, I will assess the today and decide what memories to make and how I want to spend the days of 'cans'.

Cans don't last forever. So cherish them, use them, and remember them.