I am overwhelmed by the simple grace of it.
God saved me, despite me.
Living this life is messy sometimes, to be sure. It’s confusing and fun, frustrating and joyful. It’s human. It’s real.
And there is so much beauty.
Below are my stories of learning what it means to be a part of His family.
I was 29 when my dad died. He was only 48. He died suddenly, literally dropping dead at work from an aneurysm.
The first thing I remember thinking when my mom called to tell me is – No. There is so much I haven’t worked out with him yet. He can’t be gone.
The day of his funeral was horrible. I was a first-time mom, with a four-month-old constantly crying always nursing never letting anyone hold him except me baby. My former husband did not handle the stress of it all very well and didn’t even come to the service. In fact, he left town the night before.
All I remember about the funeral is the sound of crying. My grandma’s, my baby’s, my own. It was absolutely surreal. And when it was over, I felt like I couldn’t move, like I was sinking in quicksand. When I got back to my friend’s place, I fell asleep with the baby curled up next me, all sticky and sweaty. I had no car and no idea how I was going to get home, or if I was going home.
When I woke up, He was there.
I was so disoriented that I thought it might be my dad in the room with me. After a few seconds, I knew that I knew that it was God. I can’t explain it, even now. I just suddenly knew He was with me and I was supposed to stop all the crazy, stupid, things I had been doing with my life.
Let me be perfectly clear. I wasn’t looking for this. I had been ruining my life with men, materialism, brokenness, and shame ever since I could remember. If you had asked me prior to that afternoon, I would have said God (if He even existed) didn’t want to have anything to do with a girl like me.
It took years for me to fully understand what happened that day. Sometimes, I am overwhelmed by the simple grace of it. He saved me, despite me.
I know this sudden rush of love and knowing is not part everyone’s experience. I am so grateful that it is mine because there is never any question who owns this story – not me, not my past, not anyone in it, only Him. He has loved me, delivered me, taught me, healed me, and fathered me.
I miss my daddy all the time.
And, I am so deeply grateful that in his death, Jesus gave me life.