I recently heard these words in a song called Grace: “Grace takes so long to find, and faith is so hard.” I don’t think I’ve ever let my ears hear anything as honest as that sentence. Those words.
God. Jesus. Messiah. Lord. Creator. King of all Kings. Love.
I specifically remember being a child and formulating questions that held too much weight for my parents to carry. Kept to myself, I didn’t know the meaning, the depth, the weight of these words- it only made my brain hurt trying to wrap my mind around it all. Naturally, childhood me put these words in a box and stored them deep, deep down, until they could almost be forgotten about.
Growing up without a mentally or physically present parent can wreck a child’s world. I’ve been an example of this. You learn to adapt as months- years begin to pass by. The absence hurts a little less each time you look in the mirror. You begin to see more of yourself- who you’d like to be, instead of identifying each intricate facial feature with a capsule of life labeled ‘estrangement’. You start to forget what their laugh sounds like, or the exact color of their eyes when the light hits them perfectly on a sunny day. It’s easier this way, to forget. Love becomes more of a mythical fairytale than the tangible evidence of relentless generosity.
I never knew Love had a name.
If I’m being honest, I didn’t know who Jesus was or what the cross meant until I was about 16 years old. Even then I wouldn’t say I fully grasped the intensity of it all until I turned 17 and had verbally identified as a follower of the Lord. There is a friend I must give credit to for being a catalyst throughout my early years of faith, a true champion of me throughout all seasons of confusion. Thank you.
I think I can best describe my encounter/entire relationship with the Lord something like this:
Hit by a wave of tempestuous, rushing wind called Jesus Christ. Overtaking every part of my being. Dying to a past self. Giving into the flow of the storm and becoming completely ship wrecked only to have the remaining pieces of oneself carried to shore, each wave bringing me closer to eternity. Each wave, carrying my weight. My sin washed away by the Saltiness of the ocean. Each wave brought me drifting into the arms of a Savior. Reckless generosity. That’s God. I am forever a recipient of this Beautiful Storm.
The World Race Gap Year is a 9 month mission trip involving the expedition to 3 different continents: South Africa, Ecuador and Cambodia! During my journey I’ll potentially be a helping hand in a number of projects. This may include natural disaster relief, teaching the English language, playing with the children of these villages and simply showing them the love and attention they could be yearning for, providing prayer for widows or families who have experienced great loss, as well as numerous other opportunities that may arise along this journey. My passion has and always will be children. Something about making a child laugh or smile fills me up like no other!! Children are the beautiful and fragile future of mankind and I feel that it’s my unexplainable duty to just give as long as God provides.
To put simply, I, Madison Ellen Johnson, am a vessel, brimming with the notion to love so profusely that it keeps the world up at night. To rattle and shake the earth with the Love of Christ!! Overwhelmingly alive, feeling fresh and ripe and all things new since saying yes to this inescapable Love. A love that makes absolutely no sense at all but continues to work miraculous wonders within the lives of all who give into the storm.
If you haven’t been told yet, let me be the first to inform you This Love is bigger than your internal and external battles. Bigger than your father or mother or any person who is incapable of loving you, it’s bigger than the person who forgets to make sure you’re okay and its leaps and bounds more magnificent than whatever love you may think you know now. I never knew I could be loved like this. Love does in-fact have a name; It’s Jesus.
