Redeemed

Sitting in the garden. Planted firmly on my tush between the rows of lettuce and green beans. Each hand crammed full of vegetables that would soon become my afternoon snack.

The heat and humidity of the summer day was oppressive as the sun beat down on my dark blonde hair. Later that night I would have sun burn lines on my scalp bearing witness to where my hair was parted. My pudgy cheeks would be tinged red and a new crop of light freckles would sprout up underneath the coloring.

The heat and the moisture in the air encouraged the ground to release the scent of rich earth. The gentle smells and sounds of the oak and pine trees swayed towards me in the breeze.

I could hear grasshoppers buzzing in the brush. A woodpecker was drilling into a nearby tree. Big, fat, black sugar ants crawled over my toes stained brown with dirt. Shoes never found a place on my feet when it was warm out.

I was free. I was alive.

I would sing. At the top of my lungs. I would pretend that I could speak Spanish. I would get lost in make believe worlds where I was always the heroine. I would be Laura Ingalls pioneering on the Great Plains. A Native American princess who tanned hides and lived in a teepee. A famous figure skater competing in the Olympics.

I could be anything. Do anything.

Sometimes I would just sit on my little wooden swing drawing figure eights with my toes in the dust. Or maybe I would putter around in the garden. Sometimes my mom would let me plant one of my own. It had strawberries and marigolds. One time I tried to plant Bluebonnets, but I planted them right under my swing so they never came up.

I spent a lot of time talking to God then. I know it sounds strange that a little girl would talk to God often, but He was my friend. I liked talking to Him and imagined Him up in heaven listening to me. I liked re-telling the Bible stories I learned about in Sunday School with my own grossly exaggerated flair. I had a little tape recorder I would use to tape myself preaching sermons.

Jesus meant everything to me. Dad was the youth pastor at our church, so I would go to services with him. I would pray and sing right along with the teenagers like I was one of them. I believed God could do anything. One October our dog was hit by a car and was killed. My siblings and I spent a good amount of time praying together for our dog to come back to life. When it didn't happen, we threw her one heck of a funeral service. We didn't question God or doubt him at all.

That was before I was broken.

Before the seeds of doubt weaseled their way into my heart.

Before I was fed the lies that made me question who I was.

When did it happen? Which rocks that were hurled finally hit the target and wounded my tender heart?

What makes a little girl break?

I never doubted God. Never turned my back on Him. I never stopped loving Him.

But I wondered if He stopped loving me.

I felt like I was in one of those movie scenes where the child is separated from his parents. As the little one is carried away he turns back and reaches out with everything he has in the direction of the one he loves. But the force is too powerful to resist. The ones who are carrying him away are too strong to break free.

It was like a storm came and ripped me right out of the foundation in which I was planted, hurling me through the air with abandon.

I felt like something heavy had landed on my chest. My soul was weary, my feet felt heavy, and God seemed so far away.

How did God evolve in my mind from the loving Father to a brutal Judge? The years passed by and I grew increasingly aware that my reaches for righteousness were falling miserably short.

In my mind, I couldn't reach Him. As hard as I tried I couldn't be who I thought I needed to be to receive His love.

I beat myself up until my bruised, dejected spirit couldn't take anymore.

Then the miraculous happened.

God's love came to me.

Everywhere I turned I was exposed to God's great love.

He spared no expense pouring it out over me.

He came to me. And claimed me as His own.

"Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; You are Mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, Nor shall the flame scorch you.
For I am the LORD your God, The Holy One of Israel, your Savior."
Isaiah 43:1-3

We are broken. abused. disappointed. discouraged. disheartened. hopeless.

But there is a Redeemer. The One who knit you together in your mother's womb. The One who knows every intricate detail about you, but still loves you with an indescribable love.

He has called you by your name.

And you are His.