I started going to church with my neighbor back in January of 2011. Also, around that time, my marriage was on the rocks and I had just found out I was pregnant with our third child. Later on I found out it was another girl. That makes three girls! Talk about drama.
At that point, I was kind of an emotional mess (to say the least). Oh yeah, plus I was still adjusting to my "physical limitations" (from the accident), and being a stay at home mom.
In the last post, I talked about feeling like I was suffocating, I felt trapped staying at home (basically 24/7). I was angry at my husband and took a lot out on him. He was working and going to school. He was trying to be a good provider and he had a lot on his plate. I'm not going to take all the blame for our marriage issues. I just want you to know I wasn't blameless.
One night I became so infuriated with him, I decided to pack his bags. The next morning, I told him to leave. Well, he left alright and decided not to come back for another year and a half. Even when he came back, things between us were still pretty rocky. Within that year and a half I grew tremendously in my faith and security as a woman.
Let’s now get back to the "church" portion of this post. I continued going to church week after week. I felt like there was something missing in my life. I felt like a huge part of my very being was being filled with anger and bitterness. I hated who I was becoming. I was rarely, genuinely happy (I may have seemed like I was happy, but I put on a good front). At that point, I hid behind my smile.
Each time I went to service, I felt more and more of a conviction, a conviction to surrender my life over to Jesus Christ. I felt the need to“throw in the towel” and admit that I couldn't do things on my own anymore.
I remember having this image of standing on the outside of a wooden door. My hand balled into a fist and my wrist slightly pulled back as if I were getting ready to knock. This image started popping into my head every Sunday for over a month. I don't know what was holding me back from actually knocking. I think it was because of fear, the fear of the unknown.
The Sunday after Easter Sunday (back in 2012), was when I actually "threw in the towel." I was sitting in service listening to my Pastor speak (his name is Thurman). He told a story about him and his son swimming in a pool. He mentioned how his son stood on the deck and wanted to jump into the pool .
His son was just a boy, the young boy needed to trust in his father, and believe that he would catch him so he wouldn't go under. At that moment, I had this instant thought of “I’m so sick of drowning." While I was sitting in the pews, I remember closing my eyes, and picturing myself finally knocking at this door that stood in my path for weeks. Then I remember the door slowly opening, and a man dressed in white, waving me in. At that time I finally felt a huge burden lifted from my shoulders.
As I put in my initial post, my dad is a Christian man and I'm a "daddy's girl." After I accepted Christ into my life, my dad was the first person I called. This is kind of how the conversation went. Me: "Hey dad, so I went up to the front of church today and I became a member." my Dad: "O…K, so Chelsie, what are you trying to tell me?" (that sneaky man new what I was trying to tell say, he just wanted me to come out and say that I had accepted Christ into my life as my Lord and Savior). So I said the words, “dad I accepted Christ into my life today.”
I was kind of nervous telling him. For months, no probably years, he’s been telling me to get into a church and find myself a good church family. Well my dad was right, Christ Jesus and the support of other Christians was exactly what I needed
The anger and bitterness started to fade and true healing started to begin. Having been in the accident and having Christ in my life, has helped me to realize how valuable time really is. The peace he has given me, has helped me to see the good in people, and has helped me to forgive the bad. We are only given a short amount of time on this earth. I would rather spend that time being happy then holding grudges.
The next time you stop by to read my blog, I will go into more detail on forgiveness.
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