I remember being about 8 years old, in AWANA, our churches Bible club for kids and being chosen to stand in front of our entire church for our closing program and recite Psalm 23:3. This was no small thing either because we were well known in our Baptist mega church.
I was after all the evangelist's grand-daughter. I worked so hard to memorize it, and practiced in the mirror at home so I would say it just right (all of you who know me well can let out an "ahhh, that makes sense" now that you know how early my perfectionist self started freaking out over being 'perfect')...and when the night came I went up on stage with the others who had been chosen to say Bible verses and I said it loud and clear, and just how I practiced it...and then I never really thought about the verse again.
I always 'knew' it...I can recite it to you to this day..but I never THOUGHT about it again.
Until this week.
This really tough, depressing, sad, I laid in my bed for the entire day crying....week.
Y'all He restores our souls.
Fixes them.
Comforts them.
Renews them.
The deepest, darkest, saddest, most hurt part of each of us....fixed.
No longer broken.
I was taught from a very young age that it's okay not to love people.
It's okay not to associate with certain people.
It's okay to think that it's your way or the highway.
It's okay to force my beliefs down people's throats.
Let me just make a really bold statement here: NOT ONE THING THAT I JUST TYPED IS TRUE.
And guys, when I got into high school, I wasn't really sure that I wanted any of that "church stuff". Because I knew people who weren't Christians that were a lot kinder than the people that were Christians and I'd much rather spend time with the kind people, thank you very much.
10th grade - My family moved to Michigan. WHAT ON EARTH. These people talk weird, they drink thick apple juice that's warmed up, and they wear tank tops when it's 70F outside.
I left everything I knew... including my grandparents, my best friend, and my boyfriend. And I was not at all impressed by it.
My second week of living in what felt like a different country, God sent a rather tall man to our front door with the best tasting pumpkin bread I've ever eaten...and he invited us to the church that he is the pastor of. (Oh, did I forget to mention that the house we lived in was across the yard from a little Baptist church?) God has a serious sense of humor.
My mom didn't really want to try it out, but for some reason unknown to me, we tried it out. My parents would go sometimes after that first week, but man I went every time the doors were open. And to this day, I can not give a tangible reason why other than the Holy Spirit made me walk across that yard and into the building.
I still had so much going on that was not okay, I still believed so many lies. I still really didn't see them as lies at all.
But I loved this church, the people in it, and hey..I met a cute boy there... so I became a member of it as soon as I turned 16.
Like the good Baptist girl that I was raised to be, I said the right things...did the right things when people were watching...and continued to live my life however I wanted to the rest of the time.
I made some terrible decisions in the next few years following that... but I wasn't totally believing the lies anymore. I could see the manipulation, and the hate, and I had to get away from it so that my life would change with my view on the things that I had been taught my entire life.
I moved to Colorado for YWAM, and I came back completely on fire for God.
I came back to my little Baptist church, to the disapproval of people that were very dear to me...and guys if there is one very known personality trait of mine it is PEOPLE PLEASER...and I somehow was able to step back and follow what I knew was right.
I stayed in the church, and that person moved back home to Arkansas, and I have been so blessed by my obedience. I
am currently able to avoid being right in the middle of some terrible things being caused by none other than the spirit of hate...weird, how that pattern continues if you let it.
In obedience, I gained about 8 brothers and sisters...and their parents who either act like my parents or my best friend, depending on the day and what I need in my life right then.
And hey, that pastor that came to my door 6 years ago?
He's that cute boy's dad.
And that cute boy? I love him so very dearly, and have the pleasure of having him love me back.
And guys, He restored it.
He restored my relationship with the church, because it was never meant to be broken....He gave me a family that may not be blood, but is the exact family that He wanted me to be in, in this stage of my life.
Restoration happens, I promise.
You just have to let go of what needs to be restored and allow Him to work in your heart first.
