Speak to Me

I remember the first time He tried to speak to me. God, that is. I was in high school and I was not in a good place. I know it might be hard to believe, seeing as how I turned out alright, but I was terrible back then. Hung out with people my parents did not approve of, lied, snuck out...you name it. I was bad. Just thinking about what I put my parents through makes me want to cry. Thinking about the fact that Emily is fast approaching her teenage years scares me! Because no matter how good of a job parents do, the people you hang around with become your main influence. And to think, my bad years were well before kids having cell phones, texting, facebook, email, etc. Oh, so scary!

One night I was in my room, listening to music, by myself. I was going through some rough times. And, then the radio station changed...without any involvement from me. It turned to a Christian program and though I do not remember the lyrics of the song, they spoke straight to my heart. And, somehow in that moment...I knew. I knew that He was trying to get my attention. That is the first time I recognized Him. This doesn't mean that it's the first time He tried to speak to me, it's just the first time that I took notice.

Since that time in high school, I have had many experiences with God. Unless, you have had a God experience, it might simply sound like coincidence. But, I don't believe in those...I believe in a perfect, behind the scenes orchestration, by a perfect and all knowing God.

On Wednesday nights I attend a small group, led by a recently retired Pastor of the church that I attend. I have grown to love Dennis. He is the real deal. He has this gentle wisdom which I respond very well to. This week has been hard for many reasons and I just haven't felt much like myself. I did not want to go to small group this week, just did not want to go! But, when I sign up for something-I take it seriously...so I made myself go. And, the entire time I just felt closed off. I felt like if I spoke I would have an emotional melt down. So, I was quiet and mostly off in my own little world. Then, Dennis closed with prayer. Normally, he just prays for what we've asked him to pray for (I didn't ask for prayer for anything or anyone, normally I do). But, instead he spoke the most beautiful prayer. It was powerful, it was transforming, it was absolutely God using his son, Dennis, as a vessel of His fierce and unwavering love for us. I know the prayer was for all of us, but I totally felt that God was speaking straight to my heart. The floodgates opened, I couldn't hold them back. After the prayer, I simply got up and went into the bathroom and cried until I couldn't cry anymore. You see, God always meets me where I'm at. He knows I have this point that I always reach...borderline depression, if you will. He knows I can't go there, I won't. I have SO much to be thankful for. But, every once in awhile I hit this spot...where I feel like I am at the ledge. I can hear the Devil whispering that God doesn't care because if he did he would give me a baby and not the crack-whore who has 5 kids by 5 different guys.

I think of Job, in the bible, and how the Devil told God (this is my paraphrasing) let's see how much Job loves you, God...it's easy for him to love you when he has everything, but take it all away, and see if he still does. I feel like this. I am thankful that not everything has been taken away. But, something has been taken away. And, as I've said many times - though it hurts like hell, I am thankful. Thankful for the place where I came crashing down to my knees because it is there that I really began my journey with God.