My Story: Part 1 Finding Jesus

I asked on my instagram for topics people wanted me to discuss on the blog. I only received two responses, but they were two very awesome topics for discussion. The first was "dealing with the struggles of middle school and high school and not getting into the bad stuff" and the other was "your walk with God." These both can be very simple or very complicated depending on how you approach them. Both of these questions kind of go hand in hand within my story and it would be one super long blog post if I attempted to write it all down at once, so I am going to make a series out of this starting with this post. Each Monday at 5 pm (if all works out) I will be posting a piece of my story to try to encourage you and give you perspective into how God has worked in my life up to now in my 18th year. I feel like this series of posts will be eye-opening to myself and I pray they will bring encouragement to all of you.

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So my story really begins with my parents who prayed fervently to have me. I was born early in Lubbock, Texas. I was nameless for about a week and was in the NICU for a short time as well. All of this shows the beginning of my life began with God being merciful and faithful. A few years later my family packed up and moved to St. Louis, Missouri where I have lived ever since. I hate to say it but it has been a pretty good place to grow up. Boring sometimes, but I will always have a piece of my heart in STL. (Mom I can hear you texting me laughing about this so don't even think about it) So I had a pretty great childhood. I lived in a typical subdivision with lots of fun neighbors and good times at the pool. I went through a phase where I never took off my swimsuit even in the snow and I was (maybe still am) obsessed with stuffed animals. I went to the same church from when I can remember up until the end of my 6th grade year. Looking back, it was a very dysfunctional place, but I didn't know any difference. It was a place where I would learn about Jesus and get to see friends. I knew almost everyone there and everyone seemed to love me and my family. I was in every activity from AWANA to children's choir to anything and everything in between. I was probably there any time the doors were open. I knew every nook and cranny of that church. It still holds a special place in my heart and I think it always will. I was the stereotypical Christian kid. I mean I was Mary in the Christmas play how more stereotypical can you

get! I even had a few arranged marriages all set up, as I am sure a lot of your parents did too.

So now what? I was a good kid who went to church every moment she could. Well as you know we all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. So I still have memory of the first time in my recollection I lied to my mom. We were driving on this one road we drove on a lot and I think I was eating peanut butter crackers or something. Anyways, my mom asked about some birthday party or something to do with a doll (not the important part) but instead of just telling the truth I lied. I remember afterwards feeling the worst I had ever felt in my life. I knew I had just lied for the first time when I understood what I was doing. It felt awful. My little mind could not understand why I felt that way until later, but I remember praying in that moment how sorry I was to God for lying. Before I could even comprehend what was going on in my heart, I knew I needed to pray. May we all have hearts as simple as mine at 3-4 years old.

So my story moves forward. I was nourished by the word many times a week at home with my prayer time and Bible reading to church times. I started sinning more as any human does and the effects of guilt did not seem as bad the older I got.

Time went on and I knew I needed saving in my mind, but my heart was not ready yet. I know for myself before the moment I know I was saved God was working within my heart to be ready for that day because I was very curious and yearned for the experience myself. I saw my peers being saved and I just wasn't fully grasping everything yet.

Finally, in the second grade I was sitting in the big children's stage room we called The Great Adventure room. This room was purple with tiny chairs sitting in front of a stage. Mr. Alan, our children's minister was teaching that day. This particular day he was doing what he would do periodically which was just share the Gospel with props and pictures to where we as kids would understand.

This day I was sitting in the second row with my two friends. Mr. Alan started speaking and for the first time everything made sense. He had these pictures of the Earth and one with SIN written in red. For the first time I understood that sin had separated us from God forever and God loved THE WHOLE WORLD that he sent Jesus to die on a cross for us. And God did not stop there he rose Jesus from the dead so we can be made new in Christ and someday live in eternity with God. Now clearly I did not understand the same way I do now, but that is what made sense to me then. My eyes were opened to the love of the Father.

I had heard this story so many times, but this time God pursued me and opened my eyes to see the wonder of his grace. I knew I was a sinner and did not deserve Jesus, yet he came and died. I knew that I would be made new. I had no idea all that would come from following Jesus but I did not care. I did not worry whether I would have any money or if I would have to travel far away from home. I was willing to do anything as long as I had Jesus. Let us have faith like we did when we began this beautiful journey with Christ.

So I sat in that tiny blue chair enamored for the first time, by the majesty and glory of our Father. I do not remember much else of the teaching, but I remember praying. I remember sitting in that chair praying to a Father who I knew was there and loved me and for the first time I knew. I remember feeling new. After the prayer we had the opportunity to go back and talk to Mr. Alan. I went into that room scared, but excited. The only thing I remember him saying and still think of today is "welcome to the family, you're my sister in Christ now." You're my sister in Christ. This was something I could barely fathom, but still think is one of the coolest parts of being a follower of Christ. I am an only child biologically, but I have millions upon millions of siblings in Christ. Every time I see a baptism and a father baptizes his son or daughter and says "Now I baptize you as my brother or sister in Christ" I still am amazed.

So I went back to the little Sunday school class and after my mom picked me up we walked out. As we walked out I told her "I accepted Jesus into my heart." I do not remember much else of that moment other than my mom being the happiest looking human alive. Fast forward to the afternoon I was afraid to talk to my parents about it. I do not know why, but I was scared. Maybe because it was my first real decision without their input at all? I have no idea to this day. Then when I tried talking to them I cried. (wow honestly though that should have been an indicator that any time I talk about the glory of God or what he has done within me I cry haha)

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So that's where I am going to conclude this section of the story. Even despite my shortcomings and innocent child brain, God pursued me. He pursued me with fire and brought me into a family of millions of siblings. What beauty. What an awesome God we serve. Just going back to this moment to type this has revived my spirit.

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Lord, let us be more daring in our faith like we were when we first met you. Let our hearts be on fire to trust you no matter where you lead us. You have all control. Thank you for pursuing us while we walked in the darkness of this world, blinded by sin and desperation. Thank you Jesus. Amen.