Hearing the Buzzer

Today I am preparing my heart, body and mind for entry into Christ's church. For my Baptism. Quite honestly, I'm ridiculously excited. Who wouldn't be? Once someone hears the Lord call them by name, the universe as they know it changes. Their heart is broken open within them and they can do nothing but rejoice. It is overwhelming and wonderful. I have heard it said (Pastor Nate) that Salvation is like a boat in the great ocean. We are all lost at sea when God pulls along side us. Not only does Jesus throw us a life saver but He jumps in, swims to us, and asks nothing more of us than to stop fighting and we shall be saved . Stop fighting, and reap eternal salvation. Stop fighting and be welcomed into the Kingdom of Heaven. Don't over analyze. It's not even - stop fighting and eventually with patience a boat will come.... Jesus is already with us in the water holding the life saver and ready to save us, if only we would stop fighting.

I wouldn't stop fighting.

Furthermore, I was in some pretty serious denial.

I was raised in the church. I knew all the popular stories and I have always had an innate desire to help others. I construed this desire, this goodwill as manifestation of my religious beliefs. I was against murder, hated lying, tried to follow the Golden Rule... And this is essentially the belief system that persisted with me through high school and into college. At the time, I honestly believed I'd accepted Christ into my heart.

EHHHHHH <--- that's the buzzer. My heart was all wrong, but I just didn't notice. I was so far from Christ, I didn't even remember what it felt like to be with Him anymore. The roaring buzzer that should have warned me about my separation from Him wasn't getting through to my brain. I'd carefully stuffed my ears with enough denial and excuses that I didn't hear anything anymore.

After much too long of a time absent from church something within me literally just pushed me to attend. I hadn't had anything worse than usual happen. Just one day it hit me, I needed to go to church. I picked out one like the one I'd grown up with and found my expectations of its style and procedure comforting. What was not comforting, was the overwhelming emotions that washed over me as I stood in the pew. I can't explain the feeling that was taking over my heart. It was warm and tingled, and the prickles crawled up my neck and filled my throat and ears. I couldn't hear the world around me and no thoughts filled my head as my vision grew unfocused. Everything, the heat, the prickles, all of it radiated from my heart. I couldn't help it and I didn't want to, I let the tears stream silently, warming my cheeks. Eventually the heat that had crawled from my chest to my neck overcame my deafened ears and cleared them. I could hear the hymns and rustling of the church around me again. My heart continued rejoicing in the worship that surrounded me. I read the bulletin cover to cover, soaked up every word and scripture said during service and knew without a doubt I'd be back next week.

But something was wrong after I left church that day. It wasn't overpowering or suffocating, but yet I could feel within me something ill at ease. Something in my life needed changing.

I know now what I did not realize then.

God was clearing my ears, and my heart could hear Him calling.