Asking Him In

One morning at church, a man who had returned from a mission trip in Central America gave a reflection on his experiences. He said of all the things that moved his heart, the love of the people there for God touched his very soul. Despite poverty, miles to walk to and from church, hunger, thirst and poor infrastructure, these people rejoiced and worshiped in the name of the Father once or twice a day, every day of the week. He said they didn't sit. They didn't listen quietly. But they all praised the Lord for their blessings openly, jubilantly. They loved God, knew God loved them and they rejoiced! I realized that day I wanted that too. My heart was aching for it. I didn't want to sit and hear the Word and leave. I wanted to feel the Word, I wanted it to change me and move me and help me move and change my world. I wanted to celebrate at the top of my lungs the love that was flowing through me. The beautiful, magnificent thing that is Jesus Christ.

It turns out, at about this time I moved across the city to a new apartment. Up the street less than an eighth of a mile, there was a small, modern looking church. I decided to stop by.

I might as well copy and paste the explanation of my emotions.

Warmth, tingles, tears, weakness of knees, shortness of breath, feeling of absolute completeness.
The songs were loud and sung from the heart. The people were climbing over their seats (well not quite that literally) to greet me, the new comer. The message was life changing. It was as if the sermon had been written just for me (share more in depth soon, promise).

I went home that day, went up to my room, and fell to my knees. It wasn't that some person had greeted me in such a way I'd been changed forever. It wasn't that the Pastor had said something that converted my spirit. Although the service was wonderful, it was just another tool of many that God was using to pry my ears just enough more open, that I might hear. And then, on this particular day, it was enough.



I'd heard Him call me. This time there was no confusion, no doubt; I'd heard Him say my name as I was standing in church. My mind couldn't think about anything except the shear glory of God. I was dying of thirst, starving for another refreshing serving of His word. I didn't know how to quench it other than throwing open my bible and reading and prayer. That day, right then and there, crouched on the floor I asked Jesus Christ into my heart. In that moment, I knew I had never asked Him in before, I had never felt His love for me as strong and pure and obvious and as eternal as I did then. Finally, finally I stopped fighting. In that moment I accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior, and since that day not a moment has passed that I don't feel Him transforming my heart, building me up, and loving me.