“So, getting up on Sunday morning is hard? Try rising from the dead.” From a church sign
My preacher warned, “Just don’t be weird.”
He warned us not to freak out people by talking to them about demons and praying the blood of Jesus over them their first time meeting us. Please laugh ‘cause I’m trying to be funny here. I get it that I don’t need to be waving my Bible in their faces and preaching on a street corner.
I’ve had it done to me, so I should know better. I’m not holier than anyone. In fact, I’m willing to admit how easily I return to bad habits and how quickly I take back my problems from Jesus because of my pride. I’m also (maybe a little too) eager to tell you how He saved me anyway.
At dinner with friends, they mentioned a story from the news. I talked about Prophet Jim Reilly who said he gets his news from the Bible.
They talked about Covid and 2020 being a tough year. I said it was my best year ever because the church across the street opened back up during the quarantine last May and I joined in July.
Instead of coming up with something normal to talk about, I just as well have asked what brand of shoes to buy in case I’m on my feet for hours … you know, standing on that street corner.
My friends love me anyway, so they let me be weird.
I’m not trying to run off people, but I’m not sure what to do with my energy and myself since Jesus raised me from the dead. I want people to know in case they’re dead too.
I struggled with depression most of my life. I got scared when it worsened the past 10 years. And depression’s not all that got worse, so did my 42-year marriage that I worshipped until last year. I made my husband and my family my gods.
From the time Reverend Venable baptized me at 9 years old, I went back and forth between sinking in fear and searching for God. I related to my friend who used to say, “I’ve been searching my whole life.”
Me too, but I wouldn’t turn my life over to God. I was too afraid.
Sometimes I think about deleting my hundreds of posts since 2010 when I started blogging. I can’t imagine how many I wrote that offered faux solutions in the place of God. I don’t want to mislead anyone, but it might help someone to go through my list of “gods” that didn’t work like felt and dealt with emotions, practiced self-care, and fixed relationships.
None of these are bad things. I just didn’t get better because of them.
So, these days, all I want to talk about is Jesus. He healed my depression, He’s restoring my marriage. Most of all, He brought me back from the dead and from wishing I was dead. I’m not sure I can stop being weird about Him.
I’m not even going to ask for comments on this one. I’m just appreciative if you read this far. I love you and so does Jesus!
In This Together,