When I was about 5 or 6 years old, I remember sitting with my family and listening to our preacher, Bro. Riley, preaching the Easter sermon. He went into great detail of how the Son of God was crucified on the cross. I remember a great pain in my heart and overwhelming sadness really hearing the story for the first time. I heard the words: “He died for our sins.” I thought of all my childhood sins. I would try to do better.
My father and mother were wonderful examples of how to live in the service of others. My dad was prominent as a councilman for the city of South Houston, Texas. He was elected mayor and paved the streets while conserving taxpayers money. His term was cut short however, because he had a massive heart attack on November 26, 1960 (my youngest brother’s birthday) and died on my birthday three days later, November 29, 1960. He and my mother had walked in faith and taught us to praise and to rely on the Lord through prayers. After his death our church attendance dramatically dropped.
The day he died was suppose to be a day of joy, my birthday. Instead my brother and I spent most of the day in bed with our mother as she attempted to comfort us, but instead could not control the overwhelming grief of her own. As I lay there, I came to believe that it was my sin that caused my father’s death and my mother’s pain. Why else would God take him from us on my birthday? It was a message to me. One of the terrible sins I remembered that Easter Sunday a few years earlier I would learn was simple childhood curiosity between myself and the boy next door when we agreed to show the differences to each other of our sexes. It would be many years later before I realized the logic of a 9- yr-old of the heavy responsibility of her father’s death was unfounded to say the least. But I kept the secret in my heart for years to come. Through counseling deep into my adulthood I learned I developed the fear of joy. I was unable to experience joy for the fear that tragedy would happen. I was unloved by God. I hadn’t learned in that sermon God loved me so much He gave his only begotten Son for me.
Several traumatic events would deepen my feelings of worthlessness during my eleventh and twelfth years. It was in my 13th year God sent me a messenger. His name was Billy Graham and he was preaching at the Astrodome. I was invited and attended with friends. I heard his words clearly. He was speaking to me. I felt the deliverance from the pain I had felt for so long. I joined thousands of others to receive Christ as my Savior.
Over the years since, I have lost faith more than once. When times seemed unbearable I would drift away from the very source which could carry me through. Most of those times were in my very young Christian life, but the death of my own son made me angry with God. I spent 18 months after my 49th year lost in the wilderness. But Jesus pursued me. I was a traveling nurse in East Texas at the time and I got a long term contract with a hospital in Lufkin, Tx. which is about an hour and a half drive each way to a 12 hour shift. When I arrived the first night I was to work, I met my fellow nurses on the Ortho-Neuro unit. One was a preacher’s wife and the other a very devout Christian as well. They could see and hear my pain at losing my son. They began to help me through prayer and understanding the bible more deeply than I had ever before.
Ten years later my husband sustained a critical brain injury. The doctor’s had no hope for his recovery. I was told he would be a vegetable. However, they did not know the power of the people at church and on social media, friends and neighbors, family and all their friends and family. I don’t know the number of the people who prayed, but my husband not only lived he learned to walk and talk again normally. He lives a happy life for the most part. He only gets frustrated when he realizes he is limited with some of the things he used to do that he can’t anymore. But his faith is strong and mine stronger than ever because everyday I depend on my Lord.
This blog is an introduction to blogs to come. Today is Palm Sunday. It is an appropriate day to start to share the love of Christ through his teachings. If only one person finds value to their lives from my sharing the greatest love in mine, it will be worth the journey. I hope you join me in my next blog sharing the life, death and resurrection of the King of Kings.
I am not a preacher or teacher. I’m a student who desires to know the word and history of the bible. As a student I research many articles, commentaries, sermons, passage guides and use tools for easy access to history and facts available for all denominations. A great wealth of information I gain from Logos Bible Software 7 by Faithlife. My intention is to give credit to each source I draw from. I align my faith as Methodist which is the foundation given to me by my parents, but I’ve learned through all denominations and all Christian and Jewish text. I maintain that I have no bias and will not attempt to persuade or recruit anyone to believe exactly as I believe. Some religions outside Christianity and Christian denominations I’ve found attempt to insist that their view and beliefs are the only way to understand the word of God. I believe we are each individuals with the ability to listen, read, research and understand through using our own intelligence ( and hopefully guidance from the Holy Spirit). I simply want to share the word as I understand it and hope I would stimulate you to share your experiences with me.