*A note before you read this. After doing an audit of my blog in 2022, I have decided to leave content that speaks to the Christian I was at the time this was written. I no longer identify as Christian (and haven’t for a very long time.) I chose to leave these posts because it is who I was then and it is important to me to be honest and true with every iteration and evolution of self that I experience. I may decide to add comments to the end of posts like this as well
There was a time in my life that seemed very dry. Desolate. I had no desire to be anywhere near God. I didn’t pray. I didn’t talk about Him. I talked bad about Him. I was angry. I was hurt. I was immature. I was selfish.
For 11 years.
Then something happened. I really can’t explain it. There was just a desire to make sure my son knew who God was because I had been lied to so many times. So I thought I could help him have a better life than I did. He was 3 at the time. God led me to a church and He made it clear to me that it was HIM moving things to make sure we were at THAT church. I hadn’t spoke to Him in 11 years, yet I KNEW His voice.
Inevitably, I got closer to God and remembered how it felt to be in His holy presence. It was as if I had just woke up from the worst nightmare being soothed and hearing, “Shhh. Shhh. It’s ok.” With those arms of security wrapped tightly around me. He was holding me to His chest and I could breathe Him in. And if I close my eyes right now I can still smell His fragrance. So peaceful and secure.
After He held me and soothed me, He started looking at me in the eyes. He started telling me a story. He told me where He had been the past 11 years. He showed me how he arranged the traffic jam that Phil and I met in. He showed me how he worked it out so that Zane was conceived on a very special day in our lives. A day with a lot of meaning. He showed me the people He used to tell me where He was and that He was looking for me. He even showed me the one who prayed for me for 15 years without my knowledge. Well until that night when He told me how much He missed me.
I laughed with Him. I cried with Him. I told Him how very sorry I was that I didn’t trust Him. He asked if I would trust Him now. Of course! Anything you ask of me. I am yours. And I meant it.
He held me for awhile longer. He showed me the day, the very minute that He picked me up. He showed me that during that nightmare, He was holding me. Making sure nothing happened to me. He knew I’d wake up. And when I did I was safe in His arms. He knew I’d need Him. And He just held me and loved me and showered me with His delight. Then He stood me up and He held on to my shoulders as He looked me in the eyes and said, “Now Go.”
And I didn’t want to go, but I knew I had to. And I knew He’d be there. He showed me one final thing before I set out on His mission. He showed me that He picked me up on February 23, 1992 and He stood me up on my feet February 24, 2004. Exactly 12 years. I couldn’t respond I was so shocked.
I am just as shocked now that I didn’t realize I was being carried again. He is so gentle when He picks me up I don’t even feel it. And now I know why I long to breathe in His fragrance. Because this is all familiar to me. And the next sequence of events will be feeling His arms of security wrapped around me as he says, “Shhh. Shhh. It’s ok.”