God.
We all have a picture or impression of Him. And this picture changes throughout the years…at least mine does. Yet, He stays the same. Crazy. Anyway, here it goes…
When I was a little girl in Sunday school at Bible Fellowship Church in Newark, I primarily thought of Jesus as my Savior. He was the one I turned to when I wanted to make sure I was going to heaven. After having slapped my sister across the face or throwing mud pies at neighborhood boys as they rode their big wheels around the cul-de-sac, I made sure to tell Jesus sorry. I heard many times that He paid the price once and for all . . . that nothing I did after I accepted His gift would deter me from my ultimate destination. However, there was still a fear that my little brain could not rid. God was my Savior as long as I constantly asked Him to forgive me. He forgave me of my sins and protected me when I slept because I read my Precious Moments
Bible. That was God.
Probably when I arrived at sixth grade, I was a legalist. This legalism was a build-up, but it peaked in these few years. I had always been a good girl, but that was just who I was. Now, I had to try more intently to keep up my record. I declined showing peers my Geometry homework, I never showed midriff in my oversized Aeropostale “ringer” t-shirts, and I was nice to everyone. All of my teachers loved me. Sure, I loved God and would tell people that I did. But, I lived for man. God was my crutch. At one point in those years, I heard the Lord’s voice for the first time. In Ocean City, Maryland in 2001, He grabbed my attention and I was able to worship freely. Then, He spoke to me. I was beginning understand that He craved a relationship with me . . . and I wanted the same.
High school came around and I was on fire for Jesus. I longed to know Him and share His love with my classmates. There was still a large insecurity that lingered, but my fear decreased. The times that I pressed in, He was able to use me for great things. I looked for every avenue to write papers on topics that would stir up “religious” conversation not for the sake of being religious, but with the aim of proclaiming the love of the Father. I chose John Wesley as my main man to study freshman year. Sophomore year, I wrote my yearlong science paper on how there was no getting around creationism, focusing on the second law of thermodynamics. I was the girl who left tracts in the smoky, drug-infested restrooms. Senior year is when I went all out. I ran for class V.P. with then intention of proclaiming the Gospel. As class advisors were reviewing my speech, it got rejected. I gave my speech in a roundabout fashion and may have broken some rules, but I never got reprimanded. I did all of these great things for God, and I thought I knew Him well. When I look back though, there was something more . . . something I was lacking.
I have had many experiences since graduating high school in 2006. Counseling teenagers at a summer camp, interning at an intense, military-modeled leadership academy, numerous restaurant jobs, Bible College, international adventures, working for a children’s ministry, and moving across the country. I do not regret any of it. Sometimes I think I’ve floundered and many have said I have lacked direction, but God has been faithful and I’ve been growing the entire time. He has used the hundreds of people I’ve met, worked for, and lived with to deepen my understanding of His love for His people. He’s made me realize that His love is abounding and never stops pursuing my heart.
I haven’t seen the ocean since visiting home in August. A few days ago, I had a picture of rolling waves during a storm . . . the kind of storm where even surfers are confined to the boardwalk by the lifeguards at Bethany Beach. But I was sitting by the familiar jetty at shoreline, which was staggering more than usual and coming forward at a rapid rate. The water was coming up enough to touch my feet and I was moving back every few waves. The swells never ceased . . . and God was in the ocean. He never stopped coming after me. I saw His majesty and power. And then I was afraid. The ocean has always put a fear inside of me. As much as I love it and obtain inexpressible joy from swimming far out and basking in it’s glory, I still fear it. Suddenly, I was afraid of God. But it was a good fear. It was a fear in the way that I fear the ocean. It was amazing, yet frightening. I am not saying that God is frightening, but that this journey is so. I think of the ever-popular quote by C.S. Lewis, “He is not safe, but he is good.”
That brings me to another thing about God . . . Recently, I’ve been thinking of Him like Aslan from the Chronicles of Narnia. I know, this sounds elementary and far too cheesy. And, one might also think that I am demeaning His splendor in some fashion. As I’ve been striving to be after His heart and He simultaneously speaks to me, He’s given me this picture. He shows me that He is gentle and never forces Himself on me. He lavishes his love on me. He is powerful . . . and He empowers me. He protects me. He makes me fly and rise up like eagles. He makes all things new . . . everyday, every hour, every minute. He teaches me through His Spirit. He died for me. I can’t deny that these are all characteristics that Aslan portrays.
“You have redeemed my soul from the pit of emptiness. You have redeemed my soul from death.”
Just this morning, one of my teammates was talking about how he gets more excited about the Gospel every single time he shares its inconceivable significance. I can honestly say the same. Every time we come across another group of people on a road along a rice patty or in a village, I can’t wait to hear the Gospel…both for the unbelievers and myself. And this all brings me back to the wonderful truth that Jesus is my Savior.
And that is everything to me. You are everything to me.
