I walked in the back of the Catholic church I had attended from the time I was a few days old. My friend's shoes were clicking on the marble floors behind me. I could smell incense in the air. A funeral must have taken place that morning. How poetic I think, in looking back. Little did I know that another funeral, this time a death to the ways of sin, would soon begin.
I knelt down in front of the statue of Mary and the rows of candles that were lined up before it. Moving my head up and to the right, I looked at the face of the statue of the One who had died for the sins of all mankind. As my eyes traveled over it, a priest walked in a side door of the church. He glanced at me and proceeded to walk down the stairs to have hot lunch with the students who attended the church's grade school. Seeing him caused a memory to come rushing back at me. A memory of something that had taken place two years earlier but was so vivid in my mind that it could have easily taken place that very morning ...
...Suddenly I was back in the center of a classroom. It was a Wednesday night and about thirty students were in CCD class. The priest (the one who had just walked down the stairs) was writing something on the board. I don't recall if we were on the subject of eternal life or not, but I called out his name in the form of a question. With his back still turned to me, he responded, "Yes, Sue." I asked, "What do I have to do in order to know that when I die that I will go to heaven?" He stopped writing, put the chalk down on the tray, turned to me and smiled, asking, "You love God, don't you?" I puffed air through my lips and answered, "Yeah.", thinking, "Who doesn't?" For my entire life I had been told, "We were all God's children. We're all members of His family.", so I figured the least we could do in return was to "love" Him. He continued, "Then don't worry about it, you will go to heaven." You could have heard a pin drop in the room. As far as my peripheral vision could see, every eye was on me. Somewhere deep inside, truth welled up in me. I put my hands on the desk, shoved my chair back hitting the desk behind me, crossed my arms, and right out loud, said, "BULL!" The priest smiled, looked down and continued on with his lesson as though nothing had happened.
With that memory in my mind I looked back at the statue and motioning in the direction of the stairs, I said, "He said if I loved You, everything would be okay. Well my life is a mess! And You are a hypocrite!" I hung my head. I don't know if I did it myself, or if it was hung for me. But I know I felt intense guilt. Something I hadn't allowed myself to feel for at least a couple of years. My body began to shake with sobs. I cried out how sorry I was! How sorry I was for everything! I asked Him to please forgive me! I told Him if He was real and could really hear me, that I wanted my sins to be wiped away. My mind pictured a chalk board with all my sins listed on it. I asked that all the sins be washed away with water, not just an eraser because I never wanted to see them again. I asked Him for a new start. A new life. And that I would give Him two weeks to see changes taking place, or I would make the change myself. Meaning my death.
Before you judge my "sinner's prayer" know that I no idea what I was doing. I prayed what came to me. Exactly what was inside of me is what came out of my mouth. It wasn't pretty, but it was real. And I meant it with all of my heart. And "apparently" He heard because I didn't have to wait two weeks to begin seeing changes; they were starting right there as I knelt; a sobbing mess of humanity.
It took awhile but I finally stood to my feet, and as we walked back down the aisle of the church, my friend trotted beside me. I couldn't help but smile at her. Her actions reminded me of my mother's Chihuahua as her shoes patted the floor and she repeatedly asked, "What happened?! I know something happened! What happened?!" We opened the back door of the church and I held up my hand to her, asking her for a minute to collect my thoughts. We sat down on the curb when we came to the end of the block and I told her, "I am not sure what just happened, but I know that something did. I know that I am different. I'm clean. I am a little scared because I don't know what the future holds, but I know that I can never go back."
That was thirty five years ago last Sunday. Do I regret coming to Him? Not one SECOND! My worst days walking with Him in NO WAY compare to the HOPELESSNESS that I had without Him! NO WAY! Would I respond to His call again? A THOUSAND TIMES, YES!!!! WITH ALL MY HEART!!! WITH ALL MY SOUL!!! WITH ALL MY STRENGTH!!! WITH ALL MY MIND!!! YES!!!
I got to spend Sunday night with my three most favorite people; my husband and my children. We went to a Sons of Korah concert in our area. Their music is composed from the Psalms and touches my soul, deeply. As I sat with my eyes closed and my hands raised, I heard His Beautiful Voice in my spirit, say, "Thank You for entering into the music with Me." The Creator of all that we can and cannot see, thanked me for joining Him in His praise. A holy hush surrounds me as tears fill my eyes with the memory of that moment on Our Anniversary. "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine ..." Song of Solomon 6:3a
