Entry 2: “The relationship you have with me is not the relationship I have for you.”
Hello! This is entry # 2 of my blog, “A Refining Fire”. Whether or not you read my first entry, I’m glad you’re here, and I hope that this culmination of my thoughts will serve as an encouragement for you throughout this week. Today, I’m super excited to be telling you about a “God-moment” I had a few weeks ago.
Before I begin, I would like to say thank you to everyone who read my last entry and offered me encouragement and prayer. I am so blessed to have such wonderful people in my life who support me on my walk with God, and I couldn’t be more grateful. You know who you are ;)
Now — to my “God moment”. One Sunday morning a few weeks ago, my friend Maddie and I decided to visit ‘The Church of the Open Door’, a Baptist church in Maple Grove. We both loved the church, and It was a wonderful service. They brought back the old senior pastor, Dave Johnson, who spoke on experiencing loss and dying from a faith perspective, and his own walk with the Lord since being diagnosed with terminal illness. His message was so impactful for me, because his perspective was so rooted in faith, wisdom, and reconciliation. Along with Dave’s sermon, the worship was genuine, beautiful, and centered on the Lord, and the church was celebrating “November Ing” — a time of remembrance for those in the community who had passed. Maddie and I had a wonderful time, and I enjoyed getting to be there with her.
However, as impactful as the service was, it was what happened AFTER that stuck out to me. As we were standing in the pews during worship, an old man in the center of the row walked past us to take communion, and so we let him pass. However, after he came back to sit down, he didn’t try to move back to his seat, but stood on the end of the row, only a seat away from me. For the rest of worship, I couldn’t stop thinking about the man standing next to me, and I felt a compelling to greet him. After the service ended, I began talking to him, and he told me his name was Dale. Maddie and I introduced ourselves (and we did so multiple times as he continuously forgot our names). But after that, he just started talking. He started talking about his faith, about learning how to let go of control and give it to the Lord. He told us stories that he heard that had impacted him, and he felt compelled to share. He talked about learning how to have a genuine heart. He talked about his own personal “valley of the shadow of death”, struggling with sleep apnea and divorce. He talked about being drafted in Vietnam, the work that he did there, and the moment when he saw the Vietnam memorial in St. Paul. At this point, the majority of the congregation had left the sanctuary, but Maddie and I were still there, talking with Dale. I was inspired by his story, and the ways in which he seeked to know God, but there was something else he told us, and this, I hope I will never forget. The night before this particular Sunday, Dale said he had a dream. This was a dream he’d had before, where Satan seemed to be attacking him. He woke himself up, and in the middle of the night, he looked up the Open Door service times on his computer. He hadn’t been to Open Door in over 20 years, but for some reason, it felt like something was telling him he needed to be there. So he came. And when he came, he felt like he needed to talk to someone, and share his story. And who would that someone (or someones) be, but Maddie and I. He also said that there was one particular thing he needed to tell us. “This is something that God has been saying to me, and I think that I am meant to share it with you. The relationship you have with God, is not the relationship he has for you.”
I still get chills thinking about what Dale said, because his words were exactly what I needed to hear. What he didn’t know, was the season of faith I had been going through. As I was seeking to grow in my faith, I was forced to tackle a lot of sin in my life, along with reconciling past mistakes. I was so evidently aware of how I had failed the Lord, and I began to question my salvation. I wrestled with those questions - “Is God angry with me? Do I truly know the Lord? Am I really forgiven? Is my faith real?” I couldn’t worship or pray or commune with the LORD without feeling an intense amount of shame. What Dale said to me, I felt it in my soul that it was truth. In 2 Corinthians 12:9, Paul illustrates this relationship that we have with our God. “And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” In our failures, God does not ask us to try harder, but to SURRENDER. His love and mercy are beyond comprehension, and it is through our weakness that His glory will be revealed. Additionally, through JESUS our salvation is already guaranteed, and the only thing that we need to do is accept him into our hearts and we will be saved.
Ever since that Sunday morning, I still struggle with the same sin, and I am still learning what faith can look like. But now, I have assurance in the race that I run, and I know that my heavenly father is by my side, encouraging me. I recognize my weakness, and I ask God to move through it, to fill me with his spirit, so that when he uses me as a vessel for his glory, I know it is by the work of his hands, not my own.
I hope this story impacts you as much as it impacts me, and that these words will be a reminder to you that God still loves you. More than you could ever comprehend.
