Worthy in His Eyes

Growing up we were in church every Sunday and Wednesday and almost any time someone was at church. We were there all the time. My mom was the church secretary for years and my dad was a deacon.

I accepted Jesus when I was in the fourth grade. My brother walked down the aisle to accept Jesus on Sunday morning. Our Sunday lunch conversation that day revolved around his decision to become a Christian. That lunchtime conversation tugged at my heart. That evening I walked down the aisle and made my public profession of faith. From that moment on I was a daughter of Christ. 

As a youth I helped with Vacation Bible School. I went to camp and to all the youth group events. I enjoyed church. I loved going. I brought friends when I could and I was always inviting people to church. 

In college, I regularly shared my faith with my friends. I spent my first two years of college going to a Christian College, although a different denomination than I was raised in. I went to chapel during the week. I found a sense of peace and belonging fellowshipping with other believers. 

When I married my ex-husband, I went through the adult RCIA Catholic Classes. I was confirmed, although now I look back and admit I should not have been. I never agreed with all the things I learned there. I never went to confession. I did not ever pray a Hail Mary or a prayer to the saints. Catholicism was not for me. 

Somewhere in the midst of "becoming" Catholic, my grandpa passing away, getting married and divorced, I lost my way. I was angry... at myself and at God. I was angry for the way my life turned out. I was angry at the awkward unwelcome feeling I got every time I went to mass. All these things were my own doing. The only one that was not my fault was my grandpa's cancer and death and that was just a sad fact of life.

During that time of my life, I fled. I ran from God and church. I was no longer going to the Catholic church, but going to my home church, the church I grew up in I felt just as lost. My anger and discouraged heart kept me from feeling at home there. The people there loved me, just as they always had, but I felt alone. 

I wanted nothing to do with God or His people. I blamed Him for my life being a mess. I was angry that he had not closed the doors that led me into distress and a broken heart. On the rare occassion, I was on speaking terms with God I ranted and I raved at Him. How could He let this happen to me?

I moved away from home after a while. Almost eighteen months after my divorce began, I walked into a church for the first time on my own. I walked out of church an hour or so later feeling blessed. I felt God speaking to me. I don't remember the sermon that day, but I remember feeling like the message was meant for me. It was there in that church six hours from home, one of the only white people in the building, that God spoke to my heart so much that I felt at home and at peace for the first time in years.  

God had been calling me to Him for a while, but I had been unwilling to listen. I made a huge mess of my life and made more mistakes than I could ever count. I hurt myself and the people I loved, but God loved me enough to wait out my anger. He was there when I was ready to drag my good for nothing carcass back to Him. He found me, a sinner who had ranted and raved and yelled at Him, worthy in His eyes. His love is great enough to cover all my sins.

During my mid-twenties and just when I thought I had life under control, I was diagnosed with a stomach condition called gastroparesis. I was no longer healthy. I was weak and tired and sick as a dog. I didn't want to do anything or talk to anyone and even when I did I didn't have the energy to do it. It was during this time in my life that I picked up my Bible or at least my Bible app on my phone. I read the One Year Bible plans two years in a row.

During those two years I found myself drawing nearer to God. Even in my illness I could call on Him. No matter how bad I felt He was there waiting for me. When I felt alone and lost and too sick to call on anyone else God heard my prayers. He comforted my heart in a way no living person could.

My illness has been a blessing in disguise. Yup, you read that right... My gastroparesis changed my life drastically and I pretty much hate it, but it drew me nearer to God and my family than anything ever had. It made me realize how much I needed God daily. 

I still make stupid mistakes, sin, and skip church... more often than I would like to admit, but I know my Savior is always there. Through the valleys and hills in my life God is with me, loving me, strengthening, me and encouraging me all along the way. 

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Jeremiah 29:11