My creator, my savior, my best friend, and my perfect parent gazed down upon me from the throne room. While He had deep love in His eyes, His heart was heavy.
For the daughter He had painted, the little girl that He spoke into existence was consumed with brokenness and self hatred.
The world was on her shoulders, but she didn’t know how to lay it all at the foot of the cross.
She kept trying to paint her skin red because she couldn’t see the beauty of the masterpiece that she already was.
She would run for miles, desperately trying to escape the pain that she felt deep within her.
She was in pieces.
When the Holy Spirit came to sit beside her on her bed late one evening, everything changed As tears rolled down her cheeks, He reached out with His glass bottle to catch every one for safe keeping. He had always done this, but this was the night that she realized it.
That night I experienced the faithfulness, generosity, and genuine love of the Father.
He looked me in the eyes and told me that He wanted me to come home, home to Him.
Home for me now is in His arms, laying my head on His chest listening to His heartbeat.
He sings over me.
I never thought I could know that kind of love, love that chases after you even when you reject it. Love that still loves when you leave your seat at the table. Love that just loves without any conditions.
This is the story of a girl who once chose out of love, a girl who chose to walk in despair and loneliness.
But that wasn’t the end of the story. The story wasn’t one of death, but of life.
This is the story of a girl who wakes up every morning and chooses into love with her best friend. This is the story of a girl who throughout her day has to keep choosing. This is a story of redemption.
This is my story, this is the Gospel to me.
. . .
Right now I am in a season, and in a place, where I have felt more spiritual warfare than I think I ever have. When one of my alumni team leaders sent us our weekly blog prompt, she included in her email that the prompt was inspired by someone who went through a season in his life where every single day he had to wake up and preach the Gospel to himself. To himself. That blew me away. I never thought about how putting on the helmet of salvation (Ephesians 6:17) means living in remembrance of your own salvation, and what God has done in your life. A lot of my ministry in Romania has looked like evangelism, and in complete honesty there have been a lot of times where I didn’t feel equipped or qualified to share the good news. When I sat down, and actually thought about what the Gospel is to me, I was humbled and reminded that the Gospel to me maybe isn’t the Gospel to my neighbor. But no matter what story of redemption looks like, it has the same core…the same DNA. All of our stories and all of our words are important enough to share, it all has an impact.
So let us all wake up each day humbled by what Abba has created our redemption stories to be, and let us all put on our helmet of salvation (and the entire armor of God) by living in remembrance of our own stories.
So let me ask, what is the Gospel to you? What is your story?
. . .
Song of the week: Communion By: Maverick City Music (simply because it’s amazing, and it has been my squad’s anthem these past few weeks)
Thanks for reading everybody!
All my love,
Nikki
