Most of my 36 years of living has consisted of trying to make sense of what has happened to me and looking for not only acceptance but identity in it. This is a very hard thing to do when you spent most of it behind closed doors and not telling ones story. Not everyone dies and comes back to life to tell about it. I did. I was alone in it.
Having faith alone in a room and not amongst others was lonely. I could not take the chance that someone may dismiss me. I could not take the chance of anyone saying I didn’t know God. As I got older I tried to be courageous in given organized religions chances. Way to many times, I walked away feeling dismissed, and as though others had felt they knew God better than I just because they went to a chapel or confessed all of their sins. I always retreated back to the safety of my home. A room that only God and I existed in. For as much as I felt His comfort, I have come to realize loving Him isn’t something that should be done alone. I always believed no church would ever “fit” me. No religion could ever name me as their own. That I, on my very vibrant radical journey in faith, would ride it out being misunderstood. I was the religious Pink per say 🙂
I know you have wondered where I am. Why haven’t I written. The reason isn’t because of time or not because I didn’t want to. It is because when I step in a public forum like this I want my words to matter. I don’t want to fill your time up reading what I ate for breakfast, or how I patted myself on the back because I remembered to pray today. I want you to get a clear picture of the walk I have walked, and more importantly the walk I just began.
I had a come to Jesus moment.
(insert dramatic pause)
Ok more like a come to Jesus few months (possibly life). After waking up from a very graphic vision involving mass murder of little kids in a school and it actually happening, I woke up to more than just a horrible day. I woke up to the fact evil does exist. It is easy to discount it if you haven’t run into horror on your back door. That night I literally sat thinking–the devil himself visited the town next door. I was to close to evil. Then I experienced the exact opposite of it all. The outpouring of love. The physical feeling when I went to Newtown that the Holy Spirit was literally cradling its people.
Months ago I wrote in a post about feeling like I was “circling the drain” sort of speak. Not in regards to death, but more about something big happening. Something I was gearing up for but not quite certain of. I prayed a lot. I walked into the stirring blindly, and faithly. I learned to trust. I did things I would have never done before thanks to often being crippled by anxiety. During this time I kept getting messages from other God lovers. People that were from all different religions, sometimes telling me the same exact things, and sometimes trying to make me the triangle fit into their pretty little square. I was frustrated. I was feeling defeated. However, I kept listening.
A few weeks ago my come to Jesus moment because more of a Jesus at my door wanting to share a cup of coffee. It felt like “are you coming with me or going with him?”. Meaning–evil had just knocked too. If I truly believe in the place I went when you died as a kid-how on earth could I deny Him?
While speaking to a pastor of prayer at a local church I said to him, “I don’t want to be remembered as a mystic or a psychic, I want to be remembered as a Christian”. He then asked me who Christ was to me. I stumbled. Like you would at an essay question that you know you know the answer in your heart, but can’t find the right words. I walked with those words with me for weeks. And then suddenly I surrendered.
I found a church that “gets” me. I found others that don’t tell me how to walk the walk but to entrust Him with it to show me. I realized in a matter of weeks I am not in fact psychic, but have the gift of prophecy. A gift I could not understand on my own. A church that is having the author from Heaven Is For Real next week as speaker! If that is not acceptance of who I am to my core I am not sure what is! The best part is I never felt so FREE! I mean truly FREE. I actually WANT to go to church every week. I want to open up and read the Bible without someone telling me how to. And I will in fact die again someday with the world knowing I was not a mystic with a good near death story, but a Christian who died and came back to life with a purpose.
My path is no longer hurdles full of trial and errors, it is a sigh of relief that I have arrived on a beautiful paved path. I got it right this time.
So I haven’t written because I have been trying to take it all in. Like I said before I want my words to hold their weight and matter. I do not want to lead anyone down the rocky path I tried skipping down. I want everyone to find their paved path on their own terms, in their own time, and to truly believe we are all precious gifts from God worthy of His love.
This particular quote seemed to ignite me:
“I encourage you to focus on relationship with Jesus rather than follow the rules of religion”-Joyce Meyer
It doesn’t matter the where per say but the who. For me, I don’t need the chapel, or the traditions of sitting down-standing up– reciting a prayer. I need the right people. I need the inspiration. I need to feel God amongst us.
My wish and prayer for all of you is that you find what speaks the most meaningful truth to you and your own heart, and if you already have you bask in it.