On That Fateful Day

Ever since I was a child, I’ve loved to ask questions. Why do whales sing? Why do stars die? What’s the point of all this? And my favorite: Who am I? Because the truth is, my name is just something that was assigned to me. And I didn’t choose what I like either… my favorite ice cream flavor, color, movies, music. It all just kind of sprouted out like crops in the spring. As I grew older, these questions kept getting deeper. Who is God? And if the kingdom is within me, why do I feel the opposite? Why do the pastors and teachers insist that I am naturally unholy and sinful? Doubts like these led me astray for the majority of my life, not because I was asking the wrong questions, but because I was searching- and hoping, for the wrong answers. See, for a long time I thought I could pull this whole “life” thing off all by myself. No matter how many times my mother said I couldn’t, I refused to listen. Because I’ve always been the type to mess around and find out, on my own… that’s just the way God made me. So, I kept swimming against the current, and as time went by, I kept finding myself back where I started, no matter how hard I tried. And for years I felt like a fool, because deep down, I knew God was watching me, patiently waiting and maybe laughing a little every time I tripped. “Oh, foolish child, when will you learn…”

This went on for a while, because instead of searching for God in me, I was trying to find myself by pushing God away. Until one beautiful day, I saw Jesus. But He came in the time and way that I least expected. A couple of years ago, I was laying at the beach, listening to my favorite songs, the ones I didn’t pick. When all of sudden, I felt the sand and waves join in, dancing on tempo, as if everything was alive. It only took me a couple of seconds to realize that everything IS, in fact, alive. I finally noticed that God’s creation was singing one very long song, and that I was a part of it. A beautiful symphony, that maybe I had heard before, but this time I actually listened. For the first time in my short life, I felt blessed, and at the same time humbled, for being a part of all this.

As I sat up to take it all in, one rambunctious child caught my eye. He was playing in the sand, kicking the waves, without a care in the world. But the thing that made me notice him, was that this child looked just like me when I was little. He reminded me of how pure, joyful, and close to God I was back then, as if Jesus was always holding my hand, making sure I wouldn’t fall. I saw Him, not only in that Child, but all around me. On that fateful day, I finally realized I couldn’t do this alone, that in this cold world, I needed someone to pull me back up and guide my steps, leaving footprints on the snow for me to follow. On that fateful day, I finally decided to hold God’s hand again, because I knew it was the only way I could live up to my fullest potential and walk the path that was set out for me way before I was born. On that fateful day, I realized that no matter how far I ran, how deep I hid, or how lost I felt, He was with me all along.