Reaching Out

The other day someone said I was sad. I tried to explain to this person that if they’d known me a year or two ago the last thing they would call me is “sad.” People used to know me for my happiness. I was “Pollyanna” in high school. I was “full of joy” at church. I used to laugh a lot. I was always cheerful. Joy used to overflow almost constantly from me and it was contagious.

A few years ago, someone told me that happiness was generally a mask for your true feelings. That no one could be happy all the time, the way I was. I thought about that a lot. Because I genuinely felt happy. But was my happy just a mask for what I felt inside?

What I felt inside was joy. Overwhelming joy that takes your breath away and without your realizing it, a smile seems permanently glued to your face. It wasn’t a mask, not then. Sure, hard times came, but still I had this bright joy creeping from my eyes, from my every spirit.

I don’t know when the change occurred. When that joy began to turn pale, when the smile left my features, when I lost that sparkle of true happiness. It was a gradual change, something I couldn’t notice until it was too late.

I have lived without Jesus for about 18 months now. I still go to church, mostly just to keep face. Inside, I pray that today will be the day Jesus reaches out for me. That today, the Lord will call my name and I will finally hear that call, make a decision to change and follow his voice.

I used to pray that someday I would have a testimony that would touch people. Simply growing up, always knowing without a doubt that I was a loved and saved child of God was, to me, nothing that would draw people into the truth. But now my testimony seems almost redundant of all the other testimonies I’ve heard in my life. Girl loves Jesus, goes to college, becomes immune to sin, gets into the party scene, loses virginity, tries drugs a couple of times and one day wakes up realizing that she hates where she is and wants to be back with Jesus, but feels too lost to do anything but stay where she is.

I know the gospel, I know all the laws, I’ve read most of the Bible, committed some to memory. I know that the way I feel is the typical way the devil works. I know he’s fighting for souls the same way Jesus is. But I know that Jesus, in the end, always wins. I know that Jesus is calling my name every moment of everyday and I know it is not Him, but me, who cannot hear Him.

I used to know the answer to things, directions to things. That was when I was aware of the Holy Spirit moving within me. Those were days when I prayed constantly, it took practice to hear Him. I recall the last thing He whispered to my spirit, He said, “Do not associate with them.” But they were my ministry at the time. And I could not fathom how, since I was doing the Lord’s work, it could end badly or why He’d want me not to try to help them.

Remember how badly Paul wanted to go to certain cities and God kept telling him “No.” And Paul followed God’s direction. Inside, Paul probably felt the same way I did in that moment. “But Lord,” we said, “We’re doing Your work. We will bring people into your kingdom. It’s all for your glory.” And the Lord simply said, “No.” Which brings me to the difference between Paul and myself. Paul said, “Okay, Lord.” And went the other way. I said, “No, Lord, I will win them for You!” And I followed the path I created for myself.

What I cared about most at that time was becoming immune to sin. I did not want to become immune to sin, because I knew that if I became immune to it, I would no longer be able to tell the difference between sinning and… not sinning. I also longed for fellowship at the time and these people offered me their friendship and I embraced what they offered.

It was a slow change between the innocent happy me to who I am now. But who I’ve been makes me who I am, and I know someday, this will all have made me stronger.

I woke up this morning hating what I felt: alone, depressed, hopeless. I don’t want another summer filled with loneliness, as last summer was just the same. I don’t want to spend the rest of summer watching movies and sitting alone in my apartment looking out the window.

I am tired of the life I’m living here. I am tired of the regular, mundane, the predictable. I miss the adventure of following Christ. I miss the mystery of His voice, I miss the warmth of the sun and I miss the joy that sprang forth from somewhere deep inside of me. I need to be challenged again.

I am reaching out to chance. I am reaching out with hope, for a life I once knew. I’m reaching out to Jesus, who has always been reaching out to me