He answered and said, “I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid
because I was naked, so I hid.” Genesis 3:10 NIV
I was taken to Sunday School
and taught that God is love. I believed that—but I didn’t believe God or
anyone else could love me because I couldn’t live up to legalistic standards.
Love had to be earned, and the rules for getting it were always changing.
God chased me through the
years, through all the brief pleasures and interests I tried to find purpose
and relationship in. (Mainly crafts, pets, books.) Still trying to live up to
legalism, I even tried church once when I first went away to school. Very bad
experience, long story.
The last valley was my first
marriage at 40. Six years of control freak temper tantrums came close to
convincing me I really must be worthless. At the end of that time I wasn’t a
pile of broken pieces; I was a pile of dust.
Two things got through to me.
One: my ex would watch the
beginning of Jimmy Swaggert’s TV program, then turn it off when the preaching
came on. I liked the music, but what really pulled at me was what I saw in John
Starnes’ face as he sang. Whatever it was, I wanted it.
Two: If something mattered
enough for me to talk back to my ex, he’d choose one small detail and hammer at
it for days: “Why did you use that word and not this one?” One
day I got so frustrated I just threw up my hands and said, “Oh, God!” He
snapped back, “You’d better call on somebody you know a little better.”
That cold shock was the end of
it. God had me up a dead end alley with nowhere else to run from Him—and I was
still scared of Him. But when I screwed up my courage to turn and face what I
knew was coming from this angry God, His arms were wide open, His tender hunger
for me unmistakable. What was left of me just finished crumbling. I didn’t yet
know Wayne Watson’s song, Rose-Colored Glasses, but I felt one line of it all
the way through me: “I am my God’s desire.” *
There were no words between
us, no “sinner’s prayer”, but He could hear the words of my heart. I was dead,
rotten all the way through, and I wanted to live. I wanted love, the real
two-way kind.
Now I know I’ve already been
through the worst I’ll ever have to go through—because I’ll never again have to
go through anything alone.
Saint Patrick said, “Belong to
God and become a wonder to yourself.” That’s true. I’m real now; I’m what I was
supposed to be all along. And that pile if dust I was? He put His Light in
there, and the pile started glowing warm and bright, coming together in a clean
new vessel. It’s still inside this old jar of clay, but it’s there. And
one day after all the days are gone, everyone will get to see it. And
for now, other people get to warm up at His fire in me.
Avi, again I have no words but the words of my grateful heart. Hear me,
and know how much I love You. In Your Holy Name, Amen.
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