I realize this is a long post, but it's an important post for me and there was no way to condense any of it.
This week as been a very emotional week. At first, I thought perhaps it had to do with missing my daughter Emily, and the feelings that have surfaced as a result of her physical absence. I began to see myself as a mother, and wasn't real thrilled with what I saw. I started to regret not holding my children often enough, not reading to them enough, not playing enough, not talking enough, not laughing enough, not really getting to know them. I realized, I spent way to much time cleaning house, planning meals, doing the laundry, paying the bills, and so on. I regret placing my two older children in the position of raising their three younger siblings, all so I could attend nursing school. I was consumed by my performance based perfectionism, wondering, what kind of damage have I done. I didn't just miss Emily, I missed all my children.
Throughout this week my mind has been filled with an influx of thoughts, of sins that have stained my life. Stains I haven't been able to get rid of, instead, I've just covered them up with a throw rug. What you see on the outside is clean, the inside...well...not so much.
Wednesday, on my way to the church Recovery meeting, I became consumed by tears. Not the tears you shed with a good movie. The shaking, sniffing, hysterical out of control, you can't understand a word I'm saying, snot dripping sobbing. I was struggling to understand why I was so emotional. I was trying to tell myself to get it together...you can't let people see you like this! Get a hold of yourself!!!
Somehow I managed to get a grip before entering church. After a few hugs and songs of praise, we sat to hear a young man's testimony. This young man is the same age as my oldest son. I could barely contain my tears during his testimony. So much so, that I wanted to get up and leave, to run far away. Instead, I stayed, captivated by his story. A story so similar to my own. I wept. Wept over how amazing God is in this young man's life. Wept, wondering if mine could be equally touched by God.
You see, I have not really been honest about who I am. Partially because I am still trying to figure out exactly who that is. But mostly, because I don't want to see who I really am. I'm disappointed in myself, in the choices I've made. I wish I wasn't so concerned about what others thought of me. I wish I didn't need to control everything and everyone. I wish I didn't have to be perfect. I wish I didn't need to be right. I wish I didn't care about how clean my house is or how much mony I have in retirement. I wish I could be good enough to earn my way into heaven.
My parents are good people, each with their own special qualities. We inherit certain traits from our parents...I've inherited their perfectionism. As a result, all that I do, all that I expect of others is performance based.
I was raised Catholic, and from a very young age struggled with the teachings of the church. I questioned so much. My parents didn't understand my point of view. Wanting to do what was right, and perform well for them, I continued to follow along the teachings of the church, yet I still struggled. I didn't see things the way my parents saw them. They seem to love God and know that He loves them, but I never felt the same way. I heard a different message.
Babies had to be baptized or they couldn't go to heaven right away if they died because they carried the unpardonable sin. As a baby, I was baptized. Later, first communion then confirmation, all rituals of the Catholic church. In my view, it was these steps that would take me to heaven. I feared doing anything wrong, thinking God would punish me either here on earth, or by placing me in hell or purgatory. I believed if I continued to sin, I would be forever lost. No matter how hard I tried...I kept sinning. Not just lying and stealing type of sins...worse...You have no idea what I've done! Perhaps, I'll share some things in another post. But for now, I'm struggling with the stains of those sins. All which are to difficult to speak of at this time.
In my first marriage I tried so hard to be a good Catholic. Again, it just wasn't working for me. After my divorce, I gave up on the Catholic faith because I felt God and the church gave up on me. Besides, I'm strong, nearly perfect...I can do this on my own. I returned to a life of drugs and alcohol, and yes, more sin, all with two children in tow.
About a year after my divorce, a coworker began speaking to me about his church. He asked if I would like to attend a revelation seminar. Realizing I was failing miserably at life, at my salvation, I thought, why not. I was amazed at how different things where in this church, the Seventh Day Adventist Church. Here I learned about baptism by immersion, about the sabbath, about clean and unclean foods, about how not to outwardly adorn yourself with jewelry and make-up...
My current husband attended the seminar with me, in December of 1991, we were baptized into the Adventist faith. I can't speak for my husband, but I realize now, I was baptized because I believed it was the right thing to do. I wasn't baptized the real way as a baby, so if I truly wanted to be saved, immersion was what I must to do.
Honestly, I never felt any different. Again, I found myself going though church rituals and still not feeling God's love and grace that everyone talks about. The church preached that you are saved by grace through faith, yet I continued to believe by following the teachings of the church, my good performance would get me into heaven.
Again, things started going bad. My marriage was failing, money was tight, but most importantly...Again, God was not answering my prayers.
I began to believe that God was punishing me for my sins. Disgusted by my life of sin, by what God wasn't doing for me, by feeling that being a Christian was more of a burden than joy, that I could never, ever, perform well enough to enter heaven, I quit.
For almost two years I've been going to a non denominational church. There have been times where scripture has spoken to me, but only for a short while. I quickly return to my ways (my control). Even here, I myself have typed post that have spoken to my heart, have actually blown me away, but soon thereafter, I lose faith, I fall right back into that sinful nature.
For the last few months, I have been feeling the Lord in my life. Honestly!! For the first time, I am seeing Christ. But in the back of my mind I've wondered, have a blown my chances at God's love and Grace. I have recently struggled with Hebrews 6:4-6 It is impossible for those who have once been enlightened, who have tasted the heavenly gift, who have shared in the Holy Spirit, who have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the coming age, if they fall away, to be brought back to repentance, because to their loss they are crucifying the Son of God all over again and subjecting him to public disgrace.
I was deeply moved by this Easter service. Christ crucifixion touches my heart deeply. The above verses makes me wonder, have I crucified Him again? Have I lost my way?
You readers don't know my sins! God knows. I've wondered...can He really love a wretch like me? Forgive me?
On this night, this young man was not scheduled to give his testimony. But, because of a certain chain of events, he spoke. I believe, all of this was the Lord's plan. His plan, to speak to me through this young man. His testimony was meant for me.
After his testimony, we split up into our small groups. Things became worse for me. I tried to listen to others share while fighting tears. Then, it was my turn to speak. I began sobbing inconsolably. What came out of my mouth blew my mind. I realized I had never been saved. I was my own savior. All I have done was performance based. I have never tasted the heavenly gift, the goodness of the word of God, shared in the Holy Spirit. I have not fallen away. For right now, right here in this room at almost 5o... I have been saved.
I am sobbing even now as I type. My sin stained life has been cleaned. I am so overwhelmed by the love of the Lord. I never, in my wildest dreams, ever felt such love. I feel like a bride the night before her wedding. Excited, anxious, frightened, anticipating the best is yet to come. This is real, I am being totally honest here about what I'm feeling. This young man's life was hardly what I would consider to be terrible, but he felt and knew with such certainty that the Lord loved and forgave him. Unreal!
I suppose your wondering why I say I'm frightened. I'm afraid because I know Satan will tear me apart. I'm afraid that I might turn to my old self. Here's the thing...I will have trouble, I know there will be seasons where I may feel as if I am alone. But, one thing I have now, that I didn't have then, is hope.
For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. Romans 8:24-25
I would much rather continue in this life with the hope that someday I will be with the Lord forever, captivated by His love, than to not believe, die, and realized that what He promised exist and that I can't partake of it.
It's important for me to add something here. I am not in any way trying to discredit someone's religious belief. I'm sharing my discovery about the Lord. I'm simply stating, my struggles and how I have grown in Christ. I have seen so many true believers of the Lord's love in many, many, faiths. It just wasn't there for me until now. I tried so hard, by my own will to feel it. I see now it boils down to letting the Lord do the work, not me. I'm not expecting you to follow my belief. In fact, I have been bothered lately by the little "followers" sidebar I have here. I use to wonder why some people have more followers than I. I use to wonder how many people read my blog, yet didn't follow. Sometimes, it bothered me. Not anymore.
This post wasn't to save anyone, wasn't to get people to follow my blog. This post was to share the joy I feel about coming to know and understand the love and grace of the Lord for ME. Sure, I could have written in my journal about it (which I did), but this was to good to keep to myself. And, just like the Lord spoke to me through the young man's story that night, He just might speak to one of you through me. After all, at almost 50...He saved a wretch like me!
