A long time ago when I lived in Norway on one of my walks to the bus station, I gave my life to Christ. I didn’t really know what it meant. I didn’t get struck by lightening afterwards, I couldn’t hear trumpets blasting and Jesus didn’t ride a skateboard up to me an give me a fist-pump. I just went on walking to the bus stop like any other normal day.
Since then, I’ve fallen away from both my church and my faith so many times only to find it again in the midst of wallowing in my own self pity.
Each time I rediscover my faith and the church it continues to strike a deeper and deeper chord. The rediscovery of what I have resonates into my very soul and I find myself exponentially more happy than when I asked God into my heart in the first place.
I feel that it doesn’t matter how many times I come weeping back, each and every time I continue to be rewarded despite my continued ignorance. Much in the same way the prodigal son was lavished with gifts upon coming back to his father after he blew all his inheritance money, I am rewarded with peace, wisdom and an unexplainable feeling of love.
I want to stay in those moments forever and it’s hard. Thus, I would begin to deviate.
“I don’t need God,” I would say to myself, “I can handle this. I don’t need anyone to depend on. I have to make it on my own or I’m weak. Thanks for the pick-me-up God but I got it from here!”
Although, this time around, it is different. I am forever weak. I realize that now.
No matter how many times I would go through the rediscovery process I never admitted to myself that I couldn’t handle life on my own. I need His help and His blessed sacraments.
I always knew it… I just never wanted to accept it.
Now, I am pouring my heart into it. I want to be the person God created me to be. I know that hardships will arise but I know now that these hardships, much like my past hardships, are preparing me for an extraordinary destiny.
I don’t know what that is yet but I can’t wait to find out.