This is the title of a post I wrote some time ago. It is a post on seeing the title, had made Kel angry, to suggest that I had lost my faith. But it was not what she was thinking. I was still a believer in Jesus Christ but I was lost and disillusioned about this life and what it is and what it is supposed to be, and asking the question “who am I?” Because when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t know who I was looking at anymore. And I realized that much of my faith was what I thought it was supposed to be because it is what I had seen and been taught, things that I thought I had to do and I wasn’t so I felt guilt. And when I got wounded and came home from the front lines…yeah, I got patched up but the wounds went deeper than most ever realized. They went into my soul, a place that only the Great Healer can go. Problem was, I wouldn’t let Him because He was the one who put me in the line of fire in the first place. I didn’t trust Him because of what other “Christians” had done to me and my family. You see, in my faith I had tied fellow believers and God together and when I was betrayed by my fellow believers/sinners I lost my ability to trust them and God because I had mistakenly tied the two together. So pretty much since we got back from Zambia I have been running from God, avoiding Him at all costs. Oh, I still played the part in certain circles. But if you knew me and looked in my eyes you knew I wasn’t right. In my world the sun didn’t come out anymore and my only goal was to get through another day; keep busy so my mind didn’t have a chance to rest, think, clear, listen. I had gotten pretty good at it. But I knew my God, my Father was passionately pursuing me and was violently fighting the enemy for my heart back; HE was relentless. It was getting harder and harder to avoid Him and I was getting tired. I knew this trip to Zambia was God and I resisted- but it was going to happen. FATHER knew I was just about out of steam and HE timed it out perfectly. When I finally collapsed HE was right there to catch me. Not to rebuke me, criticize me, or chastise, only to love me unconditionally, HIS son. All I felt was the love of my FATHER and HIS embrace. That happened the first full day in Zambia, Sunday morning in church. I laid in my Father’s arms and wept and the sun started to peek through the clouds. It was just the beginning of the hard, sometimes painful, cleansing, healing week.
I needed God to remind me who I was- HIS SON.
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