I didn’t grow up having a relationship with Christ.  But when He found me, I knew He was the real thing, the thing I had been searching for.  I began seeking the Christian life with fervency, hungry for everything I could learn and do to become a better follower.  Just like everything else I have ever done, I wanted to do my best, please Him in any way I could.

I’ve spent my 5 years as a believer doing that- trying to earn my way in.

God, of course, knew what I was doing.  And He understood, like no one else ever could, that I really wanted Him, not just the Christian life.  I just didn’t get it.  And in His boundless grace, He drew me as close to Himself as He could with my view of things.  He drew me to wonderful community groups of people and friends that would bring me closer to Him, to baptism where I publicly displayed my faith to Him, to faithful quiet times where I rested in His presence, to a ministry where I could serve Him.

But there’s just only so far you can go thinking you play a part in your own redemption.

At thirty- two I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  Ductal carcinoma insitu- very curable.  No big deal, a lumpectomy and maybe some radiation, and I could just put this scary thing behind me and not have to think about it anymore.

After two lumpectomies and still no “clear margins”, a mastectomy was necessary.  The surgery we chose required a solid six-week recovery.  Six weeks of not being able to be able to hold my three-year-old and one-year-old girls.

While I prepared for the surgery, I went through a flood of roller coaster emotions.  I prayed, ranted, shut down, cried- spent many sleepless nights. But every day I found ways to take my mind off my things and shove down my anxious thoughts.

I felt a definite sense of God’s purpose in what was happening, but I also felt completely blinded to what that purpose was.  

After the surgery was different.  Everyone had to do everything for me.  I couldn’t even pick up my sweet baby when she cried.  It absolutely broke my heart- much more than I thought it would.  I felt helpless and useless.  And afraid.  Oh, I was so afraid and I didn’t even really know why. 

I knew I would get through it.  But now, I was in it.  I couldn’t distract myself from my fears with busyness.  I just had to sit there with them.  They were paralyzing.  I literally couldn’t focus on anything else, and it terrified me.  Where was my God?  Where was the peace He promised me in circumstances like these?  What was I doing wrong?  Was everything I had invested my life in the last few years a lie?  Of course not….but what in the world was going on?  What would I say to all those people who kept telling me I was so “strong” and had such “faith”? 

The cards were on the table.  What if I really was the one person whose heart God couldn’t….or worse wouldn’t…. heal?  The one person too prideful in my own ability to save myself?  The one person too stiff-necked to just “let go and let God”?   

God is so faithful, and so perfect in His timing.  I am so incredibly grateful that he loves me the way He does.  He showed me it wasn’t what I was doing, it was where I was looking.  I had to intentionally turn my eyes to Him, and intentionally keep them there.  That was my part.  He would do the rest- He was the only One who could…..and would. 

He knew that it was the only way to make me see.  He had to take away every other avenue of me saving myself for my eyes to finally be opened.
And I have to be honest with you.  Once He showed me that, I still didn’t do it right away.  I was still afraid – afraid that I would do what He said and it wouldn’t work.

But one day (finally!!), I chose to look to Him.  The next day, I did it again.  And I continue that way, day by day, heartbeat by heartbeat, looking to my God .   
Now, I really do believe Him.  I know my faith is real because the One I have faith in has shown Himself faithful in a personal, intimate way.  I believe He can do what He says He can do, and I believe I am who He says I am.

I am His.