My Day of Thanksgiving

29 years ago today, God began leading me down an unfamiliar road, smoothing my paths and lighting my darkness. And He has never once forsaken me.

In early November of 1991, I started studying the Bible. At that time, I knew I didn’t like Christians (uhg...such judgmental “good” people! haha), but I was immediately captured by the Bible. 

I was not proud of my life. I didn’t have any noble reason for wanting to change my life except that I didn’t like the way I felt after I made my choices. My friends would reassure me that I was “okay”, but I knew deep down that I wasn’t. I was selfish and inconsiderate. I frequently hurt those I loved and made choices that I later regretted or honestly, felt super stupid about afterward. I kept trying to change, to stop certain patterns of behavior, but I kept ending up right back to where I began. 

When I read the Bible, it was like in the movies where the main character is forced to look at him or herself in a mirror, and see who they are (NeverEnding Story anyone?). It was at once freeing and terrifying. Every time I opened the pages, the Bible would challenge my heart, expose my thoughts and address my behavior. And though I felt judged by what I read, I also felt relief that the truth I had been feeling about myself was finally being put into words. 

I began to study about Jesus. I learned who He truly is within the Christian religion. And my entire view of Christianity was shaken. This was no “good” guy. This was a radical, truth-teller. An individual so motivated by love that He was able to resist His personal desires and comfort.  

I studied the cross and read the gruesome medical account of what happened there. At that point, I realized I was faced with an absolute choice for my life. If I was going to say that I believed in everything I had read, everything I had studied, then this belief needed to require everything from me. You don’t, can’t, accept what happened to Jesus flippantly. I would not do his sacrifice the injustice of a life half-lived for Him. I was either all in, or all out. 

I wrestled deeply with this choice. I feared losing the approval of those I loved. I knew this type of commitment looked different than the religions I had been exposed to growing up. What if others took my commitment as a sort of judgment toward them? What if people stopped liking me when I no longer wanted to go out drinking or do the other “un-Christianlike” things I had been doing? I felt very alone at this time, but I couldn’t shake what I had learned about the cross. 

Could I walk away from what Jesus had done there, that ultimate expression of love? Could I glance his way and tell him all of these other things meant more than that? Especially when all of these other things were still leaving my heart so empty? 

After a night with many tears, and some super awkward praying, I found myself clinging to the very last verse in Matthew where Jesus promises to never leave us. I was comforted and I knew I had to at least try and respond to the cross. I couldn’t walk away unless I was willing to say God and Jesus were not real at all. There could be no middle for me. 

I remember thinking I would never last as a Christian. I knew I wasn’t a good person and I knew I didn’t look anything at all like the Christians I knew. But I had to try. I gave myself a year max before complete failure.

I will never, ever forget the evening I was baptized. I was so un-religious that I didn’t even answer the questions right before my baptism (what’s a “good confession”??). I didn’t tell my parents because I was so fearful they would try and stop me (when they did find out, they were so supportive!).  

But that moment when I went under the water, the whole world went still. And then.. the breaking of the water as I came back up, certain of my commitment. 

I remember going to the bathroom to change out of my wet clothes and sitting on the floor in tears. The truth of the cross hit me. I did not want Jesus to be executed or to have to suffer the way He did. And yet, He knew that nothing less of an ultimate sacrifice for people would ever convince us, ME, of the absolute determination and completeness of His love.  

I’ve learned so much since that day. 

I’ve learned that I don’t have to be perfect. When I look back, it has been in the most frustrating moments of failure that I have felt God the nearest. I COMPLETELY underestimated how much God was going to help me along the way. 

I have also learned that by following His words in the Bible, that I can stop destructive behaviors and relearn what it is to love. I have learned that when you don’t fill up your life with activities that numb you, that the real pain sets in. But so does the healing, and all the freedom and joy it brings along with it. 

And I’ve learned that faith evolves over a lifetime, and learning who God is, never ends. In some ways, I am less sure of certain aspects of my faith than I have ever been. On the other hand, 29 years ago, I had no idea of the joy, security, comfort and love that I experience today as a result of God’s faithfulness over the years.