Twenty-six years ago tonight, I had no idea what was about to happen to me. I was a totally typical fifteen-year-old girl (which amazes me because I now have a totally typical fifteen-year-old daughter). I had mad crushes. (Okay, just two…Matt and Dan…going to leave off the last names…) I loved clothes. I was trying to fit in. I hated my hair. I went from wearing no make-up to too much make-up practically overnight. I was learning to drive. I hated doing chores. I loved junk food. I holed up in my room for hours listening to music (Tears for Fears, Mr. Mister, The Bangles, Peter Gabriel…you get the picture). I wrote poetry but I was shallow. I didn’t understand the meaning of life but thought I knew everything there was to know. I was fifteen.
And then I met Jesus. Tuesday, February 4, 1986, about 8:30pm.
My life was going one way…down a pretty normal path…and then, bam, everything changed.
And now…now I believe crazy things. I mean, really. I’m no theologian. I’m not great at explaining the why’s behind my faith. But I believe it all.
That there’s an invisible God that created the world.
That the Bible is true and inspired by him.
That Jesus is God’s son. That he really walked upon the earth. That he really died. For me. (And for everyone else). That he really came back to life.
(All of this can be proven with archaeological and historical evidence, so that helps me believe it, even though it sounds…ummm…a little not real. I get that.)
And because of all that stuff that I believe really happened, I believe he’ll be coming back. I believe I’ll spend eternity with him.
And in the meantime…well, in the meantime, I get to know and love and be comforted by this God. And I get to have friendships that are deeper and truer than anything I could have ever dreamed of because we have in common this thread of life that’s deep and abundant and overflowing and eternal. I get to serve him and try to figure out how he wants me to live. I get to rest in the knowledge that I am taken care of, that my children are taken care of, that I am loved. Like super crazy loved. Like loved more than I could have ever hoped for. Loved more than I deserve.
It’s all crazy, I know. But it all also makes total sense to a Jesus girl like me.
Thank you for 26 sweet, amazing, crazy years, Jesus. Here’s to the next twenty-six and then some.