Love is Scary, 2

“There’s a wideness in God’s mercy
I cannot find in my own
And He keeps His fire burning
To melt this heart of stone”

At this point in my life, God, of course, decided that I needed to get over myself. I don’t understand why He chose the method by which He taught me; perhaps it was the only way that would have gotten through my self-centered bubble of importance.

I am not going to go into details, or even give ideas of what happened, because the situation did not involve only me. I lost a good many people I thought were friends, and some that I considered mentors. I grieved. I held my best friend, and we grieved together. And at this point, I decided that love was too painful. If people I loved turned against me, that hurt; and if God decided that love required teaching and discipline, that really hurt. I did not want to go through this again. So I threw myself into service, and did a pretty good job of it.

But it was not for the right reasons.

I was fleeing the love of God. Somehow, I thought that if I was doing godly things, He would think that other people were more in need of His love than I was, and He would pass over me for them. It was a dark time for me. I could not write, and I did not want to pray about anything. I hardened myself and withdrew.

And, once again, God decided that this was unacceptable.

Through a series of camps and leadership events (because I was a leader in our church. I was “such a godly young woman, and so intelligent”) I realized that I was not hearing God at all anymore. This terrified me. I reached hands out of the shell, and snatched them back in again. It hurt. I did not want to feel that fire, burning at my impurities and convicting me of sin, demonstrating my need for grace and love. I felt like if I just worked hard enough, I would be acceptable. It wouldn’t have to hurt.

I started trying to fix all the flaws that I knew of in myself. I asked other people to pray, but I did not pray. There was one lady in my church who made me intensely uncomfortable. When I asked her to pray, she would immediately start praying for me aloud, and go on for several minutes.

That was too close to God. I wasn’t ready yet.

So I busied myself in school, in church, and in many things. Round about this time, I started applying to colleges.

And I came across Patrick Henry.

To be continued.

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Categories: My testimony, The story | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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