Although my parents took me to church as a child, the truth of it all didn’t really click until middle school. A friend from school invited me to the church youth group she and her friends attended. I had no idea what waited for me in the multi-purpose room of that country church. I had no idea my entire life would soon change as I sat in the church’s metal folding chair. I had no idea the presence of Jesus would be made known to me in a way that would transform everything for me.
On that first night at youth group, I slipped into a dimly lit room, spotted my friend, and sat down. Moments later, a student-led band belted out popular worships songs: Shout to the Lord and Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble? (God bless the nineties) and I loved it. I was used to traditional hymns from my grandparents’ church but I enjoyed the contemporary melodies.
Surrounded by other thirteen-year-olds with their hands raised in the air and their eyes closed, I was curious about how long worship like this had been going on and how I had missed out on it until now. After the songs came to a close, the young pastor stepped onto the stage and talked of the goodness of Jesus—His companionship and how He fights for us. The pastor sounded like he was telling the truth. He sounded like he believed every word coming out of his mouth. I was intrigued and after that night I found a ride to youth group as often as I could.
Week after week, the pastor would share about the wild life of Jesus. Over time, the words he spoke, of grace and peace, sank into my belly and made a home. I knew in my mind that Jesus loved me just as I was, yet something was still off. My heart thought it knew better. My heart knew that pain was real, and my heart was convinced that happy endings weren’t for me because mommies really do abandon their newborn babies. Still I kept going. The love of Jesus compelled me. It appeared authentic. So all encompassing. So raw. So hopeful.
People like that middle school youth pastor made me believe the love of God was real. We all need people like that. The ones that love radically when it seems you have nothing to offer in return. The ones that extend a hand when you’re spent. The ones that stand in the midst of your chaos and proclaim a gospel of peace. The ones that invite you to be the person God always destined you to be. This is what assures you and me that the good news is true, alive, and capable of fully restoring us. Capable of handling us with all of our experiences, aches, and doubts.
That is the remarkable beauty of the gospel. The Good News of Jesus can draw us in without solving all our problems, simply wooing us to believe. It reminds us that this whole kit and caboodle is a love story. God loved us and longed for our freedom, so much so that He sent His only Son so we could walk in the fullness of God. Every doubt we have is swallowed up in the love and sovereignty of Jesus. If only we let it. Without conviction, our minds, heart, and souls will be consumed by doubt.
Adapted from the book Never Alone: Exchanging Your Tender Hurts For God’s Healing Grace, Tiffany Bluhm, Ó 2018 by Abingdon Press. All rights reserved. Available wherever books are sold.