I grew up a preacher’s kid. As my momma would say, I was in church nine months before I was born. From an early age, I took great pride in being a good church girl.
I was in my twenties before I wrestled with what I believed and why. I realized I had very few personal experiences upon which to base my beliefs. That realization scared me because I knew I had a choice to make: seek and know Jesus for myself, or continue believing His relationship with me was based upon my behavior. I chose the latter.
At age thirty, I failed dramatically. As a result, I lost almost every close friend I had. I assumed I’d behaved too badly for God to love me, much less want me. My most desperate moment was being sprawled face-first on the floor, begging God for mercy.
What I didn’t realize then, and what He’s taught me since is that forgiveness, grace and mercy were mine the moment I entered relationship with Him, and they are His continual gifts to me. I simply needed to believe Him.
Over the last six years, His unconditional love and faithfulness have captured and freed my heart. His willingness to redeem my failures multiplies my love for Him.
I no longer want to run from Him; I want to run into His merciful arms.
I don’t want to simply sing for Him or about Him; I want to sing to Him.
