My decision to follow Jesus was the important decision of my life, but it wasn't very dramatic. I have always been slightly jealous of those who would come speak at church and tell stories about how they were freed from drug addiction, gambling, abuse, the mob, etc. I have fallen into the trap of so many others, believing that because my story does not include a dramatic climax, it is not worth telling. But by believing this, I am diminishing the power of God's grace in my life. I am robbing Jesus of the glory He deserves. I firmly believe that God allows us to go through circumstances because our stories will be able to help others. Maybe you are like me... the good kid who has everything together by all appearances. You may not even feel as though you are missing anything because life has always been easy. Yet, for all of your successes and awards, at the end of the day, you are just a living corpse. If our hearts have not been submitted to the very One they were created for, than we are really no better than dead men. Jesus died for every story. He rose again for the happy ending that leads to eternity.
I would love to tell you that following Jesus made me an even better kid, and that I never made another mistake ever again. Although Jesus did take away the punishment my mistakes deserved, I am still a very flawed human being, and I am still very much a people pleaser. Middle school and high school were difficult years for me. I was often picked on towards the end of elementary school, and the wounds from those experiences left some pretty deep scars. I made the conscious decision that middle school and high school would be different. I would be liked, have lots of friends, and hopefully be popular.
My quest for acceptance led me to develop Chronic Over Achiever Syndrom, a disease that caused me to be involved in every club, and run for every office possible in order to be the best/ have the most friends/ make everyone proud of me. Unfortunately, my formula for perfection and approval didn't work. Of course, my parents and family members were proud of my successes in and outside of the classroom. I had friends, and I was a role model for those younger than me. On the outside, life looked pretty darn phenomenal. But inside, I wasn't at peace.
After my high school graduation, I went to communitity college for two years to earn my A.A. It was during this time that my wall of prefection came crashing down around me. From an early age, I had my life planned: After high school, I would go to Chipola (community college), then to the University of Florida, followed by medical school to become an OBGYN. I would get married right out of college or after med school, have kids, and somehow manage to be a soccer mom and have a thriving medical career. Beginning my freshman year, I had everything lined up: the classes, extracurriculars, boyfriend, etc. I had everything planned out.
Unfortunately, my cleverly constructed fortress turned out to be a castle of sand. Class work was more difficult than I anticipated, and so when my grades were not as stellar as I was used to, I panicked. People I believed I could count on let me down, and my relationship with my boyfriend ended. My sophomore year of college consisted of a desperate attempt to salvage my sad little sandcastle, and I will be the first to tell you I was nothing less than a jerk who hurt a lot of people in the process.
My spiritual life at this point could best be described as a yo-yo diet. After I amde the decision to follow Jesus, not a lot changed. I didn't have to go to rehab or escape from a gang. Life went on as normal. I read my Bible, went to youth group and youth camp, prayed on occasion, and even went on mission trips. In my heart, I sincerely longed to follow God and be used by Him, but I couldn't figure out how to translate the passion I felt at camp or in church to the rest of my life. I would go through binges of reading the Bible and praying consistently, and then when I decided I had my fill, I would lay off for a while. The main reason why I fell apart at the end of my freshman year was because I was filling my life with the things of this world that I though would satisfy my soul: popularity, friends, possessions, grades, relationships, etc.
But guess what? In the end, I had it all, but I didn't have peace. My decision to follow Jesus was not being followed up by actions. I had simply looked in his direction rather than turned compeltely and begun taking steps after Him. I had given up on Him, but my dear sweet Jesus, He had not given up on me. My heart was restless and unsettled because He was stirring me, calling me to come closer.
The summer before my junior year, God brought me to the Philippines and compeltely wrecked my life (but in a good way, and I promise you there will be many more stories in the future). I would love to give you more details, but I can't give away every good story now... so please be patient. My prespective on life was transformed, and, needless to say, I was forever changed. My junior and senior years of college were spent at the University of Florida where I majored in English. During this time, God compeletly fulfilled my desire for friends who would love me unconditionally and accept me for who I was. I didn't have to fight my way in... they just loved me. He also provided a way for me to be discipled by two amazing women, and as a result, I was able to pour into others as well. By far I would have to say the greatest lesson I learned at UF was how to be a disciple of Jesus and not just a convert.
I am still very far from perfect, and that is ok. I don't have a set plan for the next phase of my life... but that too is ok. My story is one of grace. I am neither the heroine nor the star. I am simply loved by a God who saw my imperfections, flaws, and disgusting pride and wanted me anyways. He is the hero, and without Him, I would still just be a corpse.
We all have a story... and the theme of my story is not about me. It's about Him.
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