Gracefully Truthful

Faces of Grace

Every redemption story points to the Grand Author who writes the very best stories of all!

My life is a reflection of the grace of God. I can’t look at any season I’ve walked through when Jesus hasn’t been faithful to provide. It may not look like how I wanted, but He is faithful.

By all appearances, I was the perfect little Christian girl. I went forward at an altar call when I was 5, and had a huge party for the whole church when I was baptized a year later. 

As I was growing up, attending church was hit or miss, and the only Bible verse referred to in my house was “wives submit to your husbands.” I swore I would never submit to a man.

As a child I was drawn to the fascination and wonderment of God’s Word.
I remember reading the family Bible frequently. It was like golden treasure written just for me.

I was involved in choir, Sunday school, and even became the president of our youth group. I did everything, BUT believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and receive His free gift of salvation

In my dream, when the gunman took his stance and pulled the trigger for my assured death, Jesus stood between me and the bullet. He literally took my place and died my death.

I subconsciously started living a double life. Be who everyone wanted me to be at home and church, and then be who everyone wanted me to be at school. No one was the wiser. 

My birth mother planned to abort me. I was supposed to be a boy, but she already had a boy whom she could not handle, and had already placed another with my soon-to-be parents.

Riding my bike down a country lane at eight years old, I tearfully confessed my sins to an older girl in my church. God granted me a sensitive heart from the start. However…

No amount of productivity, acts of service, or list of accomplishments will earn any more of God’s love than I already have. His love for me is not at all about me; it’s all about Him!

My life today–both the richness of its pleasures and the trials of its sufferings–is a result of a renovating work of God. It has been a long journey of faith, obedience, and offering myself to Him. 

Losing someone that heavily influenced your faith story feels a lot like losing faith itself. As I look back, I realize it was what I needed to truly take the journey to finding faith for myself.

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My father was a functioning alcoholic. He drank moderately throughout the week, and heavily on the weekends. Mom nagged him until a fight erupted. I turned to God for a safe place.

My journey of faith began when my grandmother convinced me to go to confession. The priest asked, “Have you sinned against anyone?  Has anyone sinned against you?” 

Would I ever be good enough for Him to be proud of me?
If I worked harder, accomplished more, simply was better,
would He love me more?

When I was six, my parents divorced. People often ask if I remember my parents when they were married, and the short answer is no. I do, however, remember feeling confused.

I often tell people that I was born with a “spiritual silver spoon” in my mouth. I am a recipient of the Father’s goodness and mercy which have chased me all the days of my life.

I was supposed to marry him. I was supposed to become a medical professional. We were supposed to have a perfect little Christian life together. All my plans were slipping away.

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