Walking with God is not easy. In fact it is a process. A process that has taken me about ten years and still is not easy. I struggle with it daily. Sometimes I struggle to believe the things that are written in the Bible. Sometimes I think those things are written for other people, just not for me. I love the Lord but sometimes I get confused. I know what it says but it seems to contradict itself. Where do I fit in to all of this? How am I supposed to live my life to please God? So many questions are always going through my head. As I attempt to find answers, I just wind up more confused. I seek godly counsel, and hear things like, “Be still and know that He is God,” or “Just trust Him.” I would say, “Okay! I can do that!” Then I get home and cannot seem to figure out how. I know there is a lot of pride in me. That sometimes pretends that I have it all figured out. People will ask me questions and I give them answers like, “Just trust God.” or “Be still and know that He is the Lord.” Yeah it sounds easy, but really, how easy is it? Am I the only one who cannot figure this out? If not, why does it feel like it? Will I ever be happy? Will I ever truly feel peace?
I just want to start writing and see what happens. Here we go.
A life full of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I thought that is what it was all about. Living life like there was no tomorrow, no one really mattered. I was selfish in such a way that I did not care what happened to myself. Ruining people’s lives without a care. There was nothing anyone could say or do that would change the way I thought. Many times in drug classes, probation, ect. I would always just talk the talk to get them on my side and then get out of there. Sometimes there was a glimmer of hope. A want for change. A need for something different. It never really stayed long. It always seems like I was tossed to and fro like a wave in the wind. I would want sometime one minute and then something completely different the next. A whisper in the wind if you will. I could never figure out why, but then again I never really tried. Then something happened. The prosecuting attorney told the judge I needed to be locked up. I was a danger to myself and the community. She told him she was afraid I was going to die if I continued. OOOOOOO! I was so mad at her. What does she know, I thought. So because of her statement to the judge, I would stay in jail, unless there was a way my family could come up with a 10,000 dollar bond. My family was always bailing me out of trouble. This time it was too much. Maybe they felt the same way that attorney did. In jail, I began going to this little room once a week. Every Monday. I only started going to get out of the pod. To break up the monotony of my new life behind bars. There were two ladies that came in there. One of these ladies had a story like mine. Maybe not exactly like mine, but she had been where I was. And she was no longer there. Again, there was that little glimmer of hope. Maybe I don’t have to stay like this. Maybe I want what this woman has now. She seems happy. Like she is not always fighting something. I remember over time, she told us what changed her. She talked about God. About surrendering her heart to Jesus. She always talked about it with such love and passion. I would think to myself, “There is no way.” “These people are liars.” “What’s the catch.” I remember saying a prayer in that little room that was led by her. Admitting that I was a sinner. That I needed forgiveness. At that time I really did mean it. She gave me a Bible and had me write the date on there. The date that I said that prayer. 6/22/15. I still have this Bible to this day. I began reading that Bible a lot while I was in jail. Three months passed by and it was time for me to leave. I would no longer see that lady every week. Or go to that little room. It was time to move on. I still had 3 months on my sentence, but I wanted out of jail so badly. I had the option to go to treatment for 3 months or stay in jail. I decided to go to treatment. I remember getting out of jail. I had a few hours of “freedom.” The first thing I did was go to the store across the street from jail and buy a electronic cigarette with the leftover commissary money. After three months of not smoking. I thought to myself it would not be like smoking cigarettes. What a fool I was. I went to my sister’s house which was on the same block, where my mother was living. I got everything gathered up for treatment. My sister took me to get my ID. Before I even got to treatment, I was smoking “real” cigarettes again. That evening they drove me to treatment. I walked through the doors. I was so nervous. “Did I make the right choice? I should have stayed in jail.” This place was scary. I had to say goodbye to my family. The ones that I did not include in my life before were the only ones I wanted in it at this time. The people at the center checked me in, took out what I could not have, and showed me my room. As a sober person, I am shy. I did not know anyone. They gave me a “Big Sister.” She was nice and helpful. Later on I was told I needed to pick a track. “A WHAT?” This was a “faith-based program.” I could do the Christian track, the Red Road to Recovery Track, or a different one. I AM A CHRISTIAN!!!! I will do that one. In that track, or “class”, we worked in the Life Recovery Bible. It was green. There were a lot of cool teachers for that track. I learned a lot about God. About Jesus. The ones the lady at the jail had told me about. The ones I tried to avoid my entire life. I would even laugh when someone said these names. Now I just wanted to know more. I wanted to be like the people who had this deep love and passion for these people they never met. “How do I get that?” I would wonder. Sometimes trying to tell myself I already had it. I was calling myself a Christian while I was running amok in this center. I was cursing, making jokes about drugs, flirting with lesbians. Hurting people pretending like I wanted something I did not. Again, that wave tossed to and fro. There was nothing I did not want at least for a second. During these three months, an opportunity arose. Baptism. One girl in my “class” was doing it. I looked up to her in a way. I thought I was a new creation and needed to go ahead with it. I was baptized on 10/31/25. Not too much longer, I had graduated from treatment. I was going to live my life in freedom. Of course I was on probation. I had to stay sober or go back to jail. I was sober, I was a Christian. I went to Grace Baptist Church, where the lady from the jail went. She began to disciple me. I loved her. She did so much for me. We would go our for bible studies at the coffee shop. She would give me books. She would pray for me. Pick me up for church and services. She even helped me get a tooth pulled. Something still was not right. I was talking the talk, but not walking the walk. Something still had a hold of me, I just did not know it then. I was reading and knew all the answers to the questions. But something was still missing. Today, I would call myself deceived. I was trying to deceive others around me. Not too long after this, I began a fling with a girl. I was not getting what I wanted out of that, so I started a fling with a boy. I was hurting everyone around me and still did not care. Wouldn’t Jesus want me to care? I was not thinking about Jesus anytime I was away from that lady and the little room. Eventually these sins led to me using again. I stopped going to church altogether. This continued to spiral. This time, though, something was different. There was a new strange conviction inside of me. Everytime, I would sleep with someone, or use drugs, I was thinking about what God thought. This was new. This was something I ignored for a very long time. I did not want to stop living this way again. At the same time, I did not want to live this way. Again, a wave tossed to and fro. I am one that easily goes with the flow of things. I like to fit in. I like to be accepted. I did not have much of a backbone. I did whatever I thought was going to make someone else happy. Or make myself happy. All this time, I was running around, calling myself a Christian not living to make Jesus happy. I remember the guy I was messing around with grew up in the church. He had some hurt from the church. Here I was , a “christian” hurting him. He would tell me things from the Bible all the time, trying to call me out. “He does not know what he is talking about.” He did. I was blind to it. I did not want to see it. The more I lied to myself, the worse it got. I started hanging out with others who were doing the harder drugs again. I remember telling myself, I'm not addicted because I'm not using IV drugs. I began going crazy at this time. I would be in places that I should not have been. In my head. Thinking about the worst case scenarios. A voice telling me to get out. Sometimes I would listen and leave, sometimes I would stay. Just my kind of obedience. It was scary. At this time, I still have conviction when I was messing around with boys. I did not want to because of the conviction. I did it anyway so I “fit” in. Foolish. There was always this voice in me trying to get me to stop. Sometimes it was louder than other times. I never realized what it was until much later. I just tried to ignore it. I wanted it all to stop. I was always running. To different towns. Nothing ever worked. I remember a saying in AA that went, “No matter where you do, there you are.” That was true. Everything followed. In some places it would be a different addiction, so I thought it was better. I was still messing with boys. Still convicted. Wanting to stop. Wanting to stay. Not really knowing how to figure out what I wanted. Lost. I eventually met a boy and moved out of state. Together we got off hard drugs. Still drinking and smoking weed. I was still me, confused, lost, not knowing. He was him, controlling, arrogant, knowing all. We clashed a lot. I got pregnant. I wanted a baby. I loved kids. He did not want a baby. There was not much discussion about it. I just did what he was telling me to do. I made myself believe I did not want a kid in this world that had a father that did not want him or her. Reminded me too much of my reality. Abortion was the answer. I could not get over what I had done. I felt horrible and blamed him deep down. This got rocky. After coming back to him, I was completely sober. No weed, no booze, no anything. I applied for a job at a Christian preschool. It was an idea that seemed like a fairy-tale, not having experience, but I got the job. Working there, I began attending church again. I began to change. The conviction about me and this boy was strong. I knew I was not supposed to be there and it showed. We were fighting all the time. I finally stuck to my convictions and got out. Staying with my boss, things were going great. Until I got my own apartment. That is when I got lonely. I did not have the relationship with Jesus that I needed. I was just checking the boxes off the checklist. I began looking for “friendships” in all the wrong places. Listening to music I should not have listened to. Eventually drinking again. Then here comes smoking weed. Now I am sleeping around again. The cycle continues. I'm sure outside looking in, it was a process of changing, but to me it happened so fast. Right back where I started. The evil that followed that life was too much to bear. I began going crazy again. Covid conspiracy after covid conspiracy. What was there to do now? Run away like always. I got in my beat up blue Ford Tarus. I only had my dirty clothes hamper full of clothes and my snowboarding gear. I headed back home. The family I took for granted was the only thing I wanted again. I get home and everything is under quarantine. What is there to do but drink? I again applied for a job I was doubtful I was going to get. I guess God had plans. I got the job. I began sleeping with an old friend. Conviction was not too strong at this time as I was messed up all the time. By the grace of God, I eventually got sober. Not even really trying to, it just happened. Thank you Lord!!! I was still feeling like I was losing my mind. Being tormented by these voices in my head that never shut up. I wanted them to go away. This boy tells me about this stuff called Kratom. It is said to help with anxiety and stuff. They sell it in town. Not a big deal. Let’s do it. It was addicting. Depending on what kind you got, it was like being on meth or heroin. Two years go by doing this stuff and sleeping with this boy. Here comes the conviction again. I began dreading sleeping with him as the conviction grew stronger. I did not want to tell him that. Out of fear of what he would think, I just kept doing it. I had knee surgery. The pills were something I wanted more of. I was taking them and getting high. Then I did not want to be high. Wave tossed to and fro. The grace of God again, helped me not continue in that addiction. I stopped looking for them. I no longer craved them. Kratom was a different story. Like every addiction, I wanted to stop but could not. I was laid off because the place I was working was shut down. I applied for another job as a youth mentor. I was still calling myself a “Christian.” Even in the interview, I told them I followed Christ. My life did not look anything like it was supposed to for a “Christian.” I was smoking cigarettes, taking kratom, and sleeping with a boy outside of marriage. I had deceived myself. And them too, I guess, because I got the job. While working there, something was happening to me. Like back when I worked at the preschool. I lied to my boss once when she asked me to cover a shift because I did not just want to say NO. Nothing too “abnormal” for the world, right? I felt so bad and so fake, that I had to text her and tell her. I felt moved to read my Bible from time to time. Which had not been opened since I was working for the church as a preschool teacher. I would start to read a couple days and then fall away. Still, something was happening inside of me that I was not even aware of. I worked at this job for a couple years. I was not reading my Bible really. I had this voice telling me to go read the Bible with my aunt. Using the excuse of her being drunk, I refused to do so. My aunt soon passed away due to alcoholism. The regret, shame, and blame I felt allowed for something evil in me to manifest. At this time, my cousin was living with me and there was some hard feelings going on between us. He was not doing what I asked and I wanted him to be grounded. I was trying to make a point, even during him losing his grandmother. I was lost in that situation as well. In my room, I was screaming about my nephew as if I was possessed by a demon. “I’m gonna kill him.” I was punching walls. Stuff I had not done in years. I was being transformed from that person, but here she was. I fell to my knees. I could barely breathe from crying so hard. The only words that would come out of my mouth were, “Help me God.” From that time on, my life changed. I began to read my Bible. A lot. That is all I wanted to do. I wanted to stop smoking and taking kratom. I attempted to do this on my own in every way I knew how. It was to the point where I was wearing a nicotine patch, chewing nicotine pouches, and smoking all at the same time. My nicotine intake had increased tremendously. If I would go without kratom for more than half a day, I would be extremely sick. Chills, muscle aches, stomach issues, all the typical withdrawal symptoms. Not wanting to deal with that, I would just take more. Finally, I told God, “I do not want to take this stuff anymore.” Three days later I was done smoking and taking Kratom. I never picked it up again.
As I look back at my story from this point, I can see that the love of God was chasing after me. I was running from it. Trying to avoid it. Or calling it something else. I can see that when I was in trouble, I would never seek God’s help until the end. That is what he wanted from me. To seek Him. To allow Him to help me. Until I said, “God I cannot do this, help me.” my life was a mess. This is just a short story. Saving you from a lot of gruesome details. I began writing before this; it had a lot more details but they seemed to harm people more than they helped people. What is truly going to help people, is not my story, but God’s story. Where our stories aligned, FINALLY. That is where the power was. Power that I had been blessed to experience. I wish I could tell you that I just had everything figured out from that point forward but I can’t. I still was lost. I still had no idea what I was doing. I still had questions. Sadly, I was too afraid to admit that. I was too prideful to admit I did not understand a lot of things. God would help me with that as well.
A little later on, something tragic happened. At work, on my shift, a young boy took his life. No one saw it coming. There were many things that I could have done differently on that shift. I did not know any better. I began to question everything about my life. I questioned everything about God. “Why would God let something like this happen.?” Not only was I dealing with that but of course there was a Department of Family Services investigation. It seemed like everyone was getting lawyers involved. I did not have one, or money for one. At this point in time, I had just started attending a connect group at my church. I was a mess. I eventually told these ladies that I barely knew what was going on. They showed me support, loved me, prayed for me, checked in on me. It was something special. Although my family was pretty much doing the same thing, this was just different. This felt like it was changing something. No, the situation around me did not go away. Something in me changed. I was no longer afraid. I was learning how to trust God. I may not have had a lawyer but I had the Judge on my side. That was enough for me. I had a peace that no matter what happened, it was going to be okay. No matter if I was found guilty of neglecting this poor young man or not guilty it was okay. I learned to admit what went wrong that night, what I could have done better. The difference was I was not condemning myself or blaming myself; I was just saying, “Hey, this happened.” What would have happened if I was not walking with God, in church, at that connect group at THIS PARTICULAR TIME? Would I have used or worse, allowed myself to be so condemned that I took my life? Only God knows. I do know that He was there for me. In a way I did not expect. When I would think of God answering prayers, I would think about Him taking away the situation. He showed me in this situation, that is not how He works all the time. He showed up for me. It took some time to see it though. It was not easy to see because it was not how I wanted it to be. This event changed a lot for me. At work, I became much more serious. Even the kids noticed. I was still always questioning if that was where I was supposed to be though. There was a night when we were having a chapel service with the kids and the speaker said something about people being in a profession they were not meant to be in. This of course came after God was already showing me this. Tossed to and fro, I began making other plans. Not knowing what or where. I had a plan to move to Texas. I put my two weeks notice in. I was out of here. God had other plans. I had 5,000 dollars saved for the move. Some things happened and that was put off. I took my niece into my house as she was dealing with some stuff. She had found God and life got hard for her. I could not even imagine going through what I went through after coming to God at her age. Yikes. So I stepped in to play God. Thinking I could change her situation. She wound up getting so comfortable here, she lost her need for God. God became too uncomfortable to her and I did not know how to fix it. Go to church, youth group, bible study every night. Only to see my way failed. She grew colder to God. God showed me it was time for her to move out. I fought this for weeks. Thinking I knew what was “good” for her. “If she stays she won’t have to start a new school. If she goes, something tragic will happen,” This and that, yack, yack, yack. This was another moment for God to really show up. God showed me how I was failing to trust Him. He told me to let go. It was hard. Too hard. I wrestled with God like Jacob did. God won. Of course. Finally, I was able to obey, regardless of how hard it was. I told my niece what I was feeling, she handled it well. She moved back in with her mother. I had trust God with that situation. And still do. Even though she still is not in the faith or looking to God. I know He will get her there in His time.
It’s so easy for us to try all these other ways, but so hard for us to try the only way we should. I think of Matthew 11:28-30. Jesus says, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” I heard and read that verse so many times. I remember when I first looked into the word yoke. I am not joking, I would literally read it as if it were an egg yoke and never questioned it. Until I did. I found out that a yoke was a piece of wood that would unite one oxen with another oxen so they would have more power when carrying a heavy load. Literally blew my mind. Still, I did not fully comprehend the power in this statement. Maybe I still even question this. To be honest, my walk with Jesus still seems very hard to me.
Now I have obeyed God with my relationship. I have obeyed God with my niece. What do I do now? I always feel like I am on the wrong path, no matter what I am doing. I applied for a job as a home health care worker. To my surprise, I got the job. This job feels right. It feels like this is where I am supposed to be. It feels good. Something still does not seem right though. I feel like I need something different. I need out. Why do I always feel like this? Shouldn’t I feel at rest when I’m walking with God? I can say to people all day, “Your problems don’t just go away, life doesn’t just get easier when you are with God.” but to actually accept that truth is hard. Here I am still tossed to and fro like a wave in the wind. I want to work towards paying off my debt, I want to pursue a career, I want a better vehicle, I want a better house. On the other side of that, I want to have more time to minister to people, to do bible studies with youth, to do something radical for God. Here I am still feeling lost. But I see the love of God pursuing me. In the conversations I have with the people in my life. When my best friend tells me, “We are created to love God.” God shows up time and time again. If I am not blinded by my situation, I can see it. Earlier this week, I was so overwhelmed. It just feels like I am under attack. My life is like a bad country song. My knee broke down, my truck broke down, ain’t got no money in the bank. One little word from my mom and I broke down. I can see the love of God. She told me to “Let go and let God.” My mom does not really believe in God but she told me those words. So that is just what I did. The very next day, I received a check from my insurance that I have been waiting for months to receive. They had sent a couple that just never arrived, I guess. God’s love chasing after me. Later on my walk that day, I found ten dollars. That does not seem like much. At that moment, it was everything. It was God saying to me. “I love you.” Today, I received a letter in the mail. Months ago, I applied for assistance through the hospital because I was having some female issues. I went to the doctor about four or five times for this. I still was living on that 5,000 dollars that I saved up. I could not pay. All of this went to collections, after I had got that to 2,000 dollars. Now it is back to 5,000. This letter was not going to take that away, but it told me if I have any more needs, I will not have to pay anything to see the doctor. Again, not how I wanted or expected it, but that was God telling me, “I Love You.” I just had to tune my ears to hear it.
It can be easy to miss it. Our expectations get in the way. But the Lord says, in Hebrews 3:15 “While it is said, today if you heard the voice of the Lord, do not harden your hearts as you did in the rebellion.” The rebellion is talking about the Exodus, when God rescued His people from slavery in Egypt. Over and over again, the Lord showed up for them. They were blind to it. They forgot. They did not see. They grumbled against God. They looked for other things to worship or give them answers. Just like I do. It seems like going to God always comes after the crying, the whining, the complaining. When it should come first. It can be easy to say.”Why God?” “You’re not as good as You say you are.” Just like I did when that boy took his life. God has shown me that He is nothing but GOOD. He is nothing but LOVE. He loves me more than the family he blessed me with, who bailed me out and helped me in so many ways. Something I could never imagine to be possible. He is Jehovah-Jireh, the God who provides. He is El Roi, the God who sees me. He is Jehovah Rapha, the Lord who heals.
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