eirenemaker

Coming Home

When I say God started whispering that I return to Him "out of the blue", I meant, literally. By then, it was the summer of 1997, and I had "relative" peace...the counterfeit kind, numbness, but was almost ready to accept it as just the way to be. I had for the most part stopped my "self help" work, and was dabbling in New Age ideology, and "spirituality". I was a partner in the firm I was with, running an office in Richmond, with the respect and even admiration of my friends, colleagues, clients and business associates. Oh, the things we accept as cheap substitutes for the love of the Father.

My commute to Richmond took about 45 minutes each way, and for the most part, I drove those commutes in thought. One such morning, under a blazing sun in the vast blue sky, one thought came, unbidden.....Jesus. I hadn't thought about Him in years. In fact, I had made a point to avoid all thought of Him and looked for every excuse to justify why I was no longer a "narrow minded, intolerable, Christian". Even when the kids were going to Sunday school with Jim, I refused to acknowledge what it was they were being taught. I remember the day both kids came home to tell me they'd been saved. I was on the couch, watching TV, drinking coffee, and smoking a cigarette. My reaction was about as enthusiastic as mom's had been when I told her the same thing many years before..."mmm, that's nice"....end of subject. On that morning, while driving to Richmond, the thought came again.....JESUS!....and then a barrage of other thoughts.."you miss Him, you need Him, when are you going to return to Him". I think I flipped in a CD...end of subject.

When one sheep is missing from the flock, the Lord leaves the flock and goes searching for that one lost sheep. He is fierce and undaunted in His search. He is determined to find His lost sheep and to bring her or him back into the fold, back to His Father. It's a mission for Him, one for which He can not help Himself. The Father's heart is crying for the child He adopted and who has strayed, and the Son's heart is crying for the Father's. They will always and forever satisfy the cries of eachother's heart. There is no greater love than the Father for the Son and the Son for the Father. It's that simple, and for that reason, I have absolute certainty and trust that every child of God who decides he'd rather light his own path with his own flame and warm himself with his own fire, will be brought back into the Father's embrace. I'm convinced of it. Even when we are not faithful, God is faithful for He cannot help Himself. So, Jesus searched me out. Through the rest of that summer, into fall and winter, He drew me, not by power and not by might but by the Holy Spirit, continuing with His thought invasions until I began to admit that I really did miss Him, and like the prodigal son, I wanted to go home.

Of course, given the pride in me and fear over what Jim would say or do about it, I used the kids as my excuse to start going to church again. By this time, Jim had stopped taking them to Sunday school. Dani was nearing 13 and I kept thinking church would be a good way to ensure she didn't become a problem teenager, caught up in partying and promiscuity. Ironic eh? My mom used "this Jesus thing" as her attempt to fix our family and I was using it as my excuse to return to church, but more than that, I had a fear that my children would go down my path, and I didn't want them to. Deep in my heart of hearts I recognized Jesus as the ONLY way to life, so we started going to church January 1998. We attended a large, calmly charismatic church in Langley, and the first few Sundays were very disconcerting for me...every time I went, I cried. I hated that!! But there were no races to the alter or pledges of re-commitment. It was more like a smoldering ember that very slowly began to flame to life again. I had picked up a bible by that February or March, and began reading it..insatiably, and one night, I just knew. My life could no longer be my own. I belonged to God. He paid for me with the blood of His Son, and I had no choice but to completely surrender to Him. And I didn't want any other choice. On one deep night, in the quiet of my living room, I went to my knees and asked Him to forgive me my rebellion, arrogance, selfish pride, and for having treaded all over the blood of His Son. I asked Him to receive me back, that I was at the end of my rope. If I couldn't know Him, life wasn't worth living. I threw myself on His mercy, completely surrendered, broken and desperate. And He lifted me up and received me back into His loving arms.

My life has not been my own since....though there are have been many times when I tried to reclaim it. More about that some other time.

posted by peaceMkR @ 3:18 PM