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.
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