But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first.  Remember then from what you have fallen; repent, and do the works you did at first. – Revelation 2:4 & 5a, NRSV

One night, seventeen years ago, I sat on my college dorm room bed, with a friend of mine, talking about formative moments.  I had already wept through the story of the lost dog that shrank up to me one day during my senior year of high school.  That dog never wandered from my side.  Instead I committed the ultimate act of betrayal by leaving her with my parents as I left for college.  It was one of the greatest tragedies of my life, to that point.

Homesickness was pulling us into the early morning hours with a steady decline in the quality of conversation, but that was the mark of a true friend.  We were in it for the long haul, and I had to bring up that crazy day when I was nine.

I had been away at GA (Girls in Action) camp for a week when I felt the Holy Spirit moving me for the first time.  The feeling can only be described as unavoidable.  It was overwhelming, kind of like anxiety, but happy.  My head was telling me to get to the preacher, as my heart was doing the Cha Cha.  At that altar call, I confessed my belief that Christ was my Savior.

I will never forget the moments after the service ended.  I was giddy.  With the least sophisticated comprehension of biblical transformation, I knew that I had just changed.  I remembered the feeling.  I remembered skipping.  I remembered the event.

I needed to remember this event.

By the time I had reached my senior year of college, this event was catalogued as unexplained phenomena.  My first religion course was “Women in the Bible”, and there I decided that there were too many holes and not enough intelligent evidence to fill them.  I walked away from the church.

To read more, click here and join me at Internet Cafe.

My brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance; and let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing. – James 1: 2-4, NRSV

God is not a magician.

These words have not been far from my mind since I heard them in church, four years ago.  It was a message about the human expectation of God.  At this time, I had successfully weathered some difficult family issues, a health issue and some normal relationship difficulties.  I nodded my head knowingly at the speaker’s words and said a silent, “Thank you!”, that I had learned this lesson unknowingly.

Sitting there, I could not know that the years to come would bring an obstacle course of challenges to redefine me.

I was able to listen to that message with confidence and gratitude because I had witnessed the endurance and joy that James touted.  God allowed me to claim victory over event after event that settled on my doorstep.  Huddled into His side, I offered my trust, my future and my present.

And, then I took a breath.
This breath happened somewhere between regaining mobility after back surgery and an amazing pregnancy.  I surveyed all that God had done and I declared it good.  Then, I realized that I, Tracy, was tired of obstacles.

To read more, click here and join me at The Cafe.