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Circumstances as of late seem to be leading me to share my story with y’all.  I think I will start with the present and then flashback to earlier days.

I really don’t enjoy talking about myself, but I do enjoy pointing people to Christ.  I am not a bible thumping, hell, fire and brimstone kinda Christian.  So, I hope I don’t scare you off with all of this Christian talk.

I may offend some people here, but in my opinion, what you see on t.v. and the media does not represent  Christians well at all.  In fact, if I were not a Christian and that public persona is all I had to go on, I most certainly wouldn’t want to be a one.

If you have been hurt or burned by the church, I am so sorry.

It is easy, even as a Christian, to be discouraged in the faith.   I’ve been there.  I was there for quite some time until recently.

On Maundy Thursday, I went to an all night prayer walk.  It was kind of like stations of the cross if you are familiar with that practice.  I went hoping that Jesus would encourage me.  I had visited over half of the stations, and they were meaningful, but my hardened heart was difficult to penetrate.

When I got to the station that asked us to express our love for Jesus, it got real.  I was feeling a bit frustrated at not feeling love for Jesus.  I looked over to my right and saw that someone who had visited the station before me wrote, ‘undying love’.   “Liar!”  I thought.   “How can you honestly say that you feel such a deep love for Jesus?  He’s not visible.  Life is hard.  People get hurt.  I hurt.  Circumstances knock us down.  I’m down.  So, how can undying love be filling your heart?!”

At the risk of others seeing my own expressions, I decided to answer honestly.  I drew an empty frame and wrote the word ‘unwritten’ inside.  On the back of my drawing, I elaborated on the meaning of my illustration.

As I wrote, I was taken back to a time when I was about seven- years- old and truly loved Jesus with all of my heart.  I loved going to church.  My favorite part of church was going to children’s chapel.  There were puppets, songs, and bible stories.  I would sing “Oh, How I Love Jesus” with such conviction.   I vividly remember my heart swelling with love and joy.

Even now, as I write about it, I’m taken back to that time.

But something happened to that little girl’s heart.  On this Maundy Thursday, my heart was aching.  I missed  having a child like faith.  And so I prayed for God to reunite my heart with His.

I carried my illustration with me as I traveled to the next station.  Tears started to fill my eyes as I reflected on how I’ve denied Jesus in my life.

Then, with the illustration still in hand, I made my way to the last station: The cross.

Tears freely flowing and walls crumbling, I knelt at the alter before the cross.  Suddenly, I was that little girl again, being reunited with her first love: Jesus.

I left my illustration at the foot of the cross that Maundy Thursday.  On Easter Sunday, I worshipped with a resurrected heart:  a renewed sense of gratitude and love for Jesus.

Over the next while, I will fill you in on the story of the seven-year-old little girl and her journey through life.

Until next time,