Becoming Found

A year ago today, I wouldn't have been able to tell you when the last time I'd been to church was. But in the past two days, I've been twice. Once last night and once more this morning to watch KC along with the other Sunday school children perform a short skit on the true meaning of the twelve days of Christmas. And I think to myself how easy it has been to reestablish my relationship with God and to introduce my daughter into the Christian faith.

Everywhere I go now, I see traces of his word. In the books I read, the people I meet, in the way my life is slowly changing. And I think of how unhappy I've been for so long, and all the anger I've carried with me for so many years. So much anger and so much rage boiling inside for so long that I'd begun to believe that I was a bad person, not worthy of being loved, not worthy of being treated with compassion or respect, not worthy of being forgiven for sins that weren't even mine.

I needed healing but I refused it. I needed faith but I turned away from it. I needed forgiveness but I did not ask for it. I needed wholeness but I clung to being broken as if that were my true salvation. And I blamed God, blamed him for everything that broke my heart and crushed my spirit. Blamed him for my darkness and my depression, blamed him for the lack of light and happiness in my life until God was not something I believed existed anymore. God was for people who were not me.

But I sit here now telling you that I was wrong and that what I believe now is what I know to be true. We are all given choices to walk with God or to walk without him, to ask him for his company or to deny him a place in our lives. God gives us that right to choose, but even with that choice we are never truly without him. God never gives up or walks away, he simply waits. Waits and watches over us, always ready to guide us back to the path when we are lost. And when we are found, it's like we were never lost at all...