Fifteen years strong
Today is my rebirthday. Fifteen years ago I gave my life to Christ. Some of you have been Christians much longer than I; some of you may be stuck wondering what in the world a “rebirthday” is.
A rebirthday is simply an anniversary; it is the anniversary of being born again. Jesus said “No one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.” (John 3:3 NIV) He goes on to explain we must be born of the flesh and of the spirit. We are born of the flesh when we exit our mothers’ wombs; we are born of the spirit when we place our faith in Jesus Christ. Faith of what? Faith that what He says is true; what He says, He will do. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him will not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16) If we put our trust in Him for salvation – not in ourselves, our works or our wealth, but in Him alone – He will give us eternal life as heirs of God. Our rebirthday remembers the day we were born of the spirit, the day God adopted us as His children.
None of this is to say that salvation happens in a day. Sometimes salvation is a process. It can take days or even years for someone to go from doubt to belief. But sometimes it does happen in a day. Sometimes there is a wonderful “ah-ha” moment in which a person is faced with their wicked immortality and God’s amazing grace. It is in that moment a conscious decision must be made: to accept God’s free gift of life and follow Him or to deny His grace and continue without Him. I made the choice to follow God on January 16th, 1992.
I was fifteen and grounded. Some parents threaten their teens with weeks or months of grounding but then recant. My mom grounded me for a year and never recanted. She stuck to her guns and made me stick with the punishment. It changed my life.
Before this disciplinary year began, my life was focused only on me and how to get what I wanted. More than anything I wanted to be a dancer. I wanted to be on Broadway. There was only one way to get from our map-dot of a town to New York: show choir. I worked my way into a circle of friends to help me get in. The problem was they weren’t much help in other areas. I started dating one of the guys who was tight with the director. A free ticket, so I thought. I was invincible and on my way. We started skipping school and lying to everybody. We even got the choir director to defend us and help us get away with it. This wasn’t serious stuff by today’s standards. We weren’t doing drugs or getting drunk. We were kids messing around. He was seventeen; I was fourteen. We thought we had the world in our back pockets – until my mom found out.
She was a single mom working hard to raise her four kids. She couldn’t keep an eye on us all the time, but the neighbors could. The lady across the street noticed my boyfriend’s truck in our driveway long past time for school to start. (This was after my mother had already forbidden me to see him again or have any friends over when she wasn’t home.) Our kindly neighbor lady called Mom to report. It was not a good day. By the end of it, I was faced with no friends, detention at school and a one year grounding sentence. My punishment disallowed me any association with this boy or his family for an entire year. That included any event or group in which he might be involved. So long, show choir. Adios, dance classes, plays and theatre. Good bye, Broadway.
The only social activities permitted were sports or church. I’m not athletic, so basically just church. I resented this from the tips of my toes. I blamed God for my parents’ divorce and didn’t appreciate having Him forced on me. If He really was all powerful, then He should have fixed my family. He didn’t. Instead we were drug through years of painful court proceedings, counseling and public humiliation. In a town that small, everyone and their mothers knew more about me and our family’s drama than I did. It was God’s fault and now, as punishment, I had to sit in church and hear all about Him every Sunday and Wednesday.
I begrudgingly joined the youth group. We had journals to keep and lessons to finish between each meeting. It was meant to teach consistent devotions, quiet times of studying the Bible and praying each day. I usually did the whole week’s worth in one sitting. They were short and this kept my penance to a minimum.
I don’t remember what the lesson was on January 16th. I don’t remember what day it was or what else was going on. What I remember is the verse I read and the thoughts that coursed through my mind.
“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” – Romans 8:38-39
If none of these things could pull me away from God’s love, who was I to even try? I am no match for angels or demons or laws and powers. I am nothing and yet I realized, ever since my parents split nine years before, I had subconsciously been doing everything in my strength to abandon God. And in spite of all my efforts, blasphemy and rebellion, He still loved me. He would not allow me to abandon Him. Furthermore, He would never, ever abandon me.
Never before had I been loved like that. Oh, my mother loves me without strings or conditions, but she doesn’t know my heart. She doesn’t see my secret thoughts. God does – and He still loves me. He knows my words before they touch my tongue. He knows my thoughts and actions before I wake each morning. He knows all my faults, embarrassments and ill-conceived pride … and He still loves me! Faced with this kind of love I saw no choice but to embrace it. I confessed my weaknesses before Him and promised to live the rest of my days for His glory. Where He wanted me, I would go. What He asked of me, I would do. I surrendered all my will to Him and have never regretted it.
It has been fifteen years and I am so far from being perfect. Fortunately, I don’t need to be perfect – God loves me anyway. And I continue to put my faith in Him: that what He says is true and what He says, He will do. He says He loves me, and so it is true. He says He will give eternal life to those who believe, and that He will do. Praise be to Him!
If any of this is confusing to you or if you want to know more, please do not hesitate to email me. I would love nothing more than to discuss this with you further. I have found an awesome freedom in knowing God personally. I long to have you know Him too.
A rebirthday is simply an anniversary; it is the anniversary of being born again. Jesus said “No one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.” (John 3:3 NIV) He goes on to explain we must be born of the flesh and of the spirit. We are born of the flesh when we exit our mothers’ wombs; we are born of the spirit when we place our faith in Jesus Christ. Faith of what? Faith that what He says is true; what He says, He will do. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him will not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16) If we put our trust in Him for salvation – not in ourselves, our works or our wealth, but in Him alone – He will give us eternal life as heirs of God. Our rebirthday remembers the day we were born of the spirit, the day God adopted us as His children.
None of this is to say that salvation happens in a day. Sometimes salvation is a process. It can take days or even years for someone to go from doubt to belief. But sometimes it does happen in a day. Sometimes there is a wonderful “ah-ha” moment in which a person is faced with their wicked immortality and God’s amazing grace. It is in that moment a conscious decision must be made: to accept God’s free gift of life and follow Him or to deny His grace and continue without Him. I made the choice to follow God on January 16th, 1992.
I was fifteen and grounded. Some parents threaten their teens with weeks or months of grounding but then recant. My mom grounded me for a year and never recanted. She stuck to her guns and made me stick with the punishment. It changed my life.
Before this disciplinary year began, my life was focused only on me and how to get what I wanted. More than anything I wanted to be a dancer. I wanted to be on Broadway. There was only one way to get from our map-dot of a town to New York: show choir. I worked my way into a circle of friends to help me get in. The problem was they weren’t much help in other areas. I started dating one of the guys who was tight with the director. A free ticket, so I thought. I was invincible and on my way. We started skipping school and lying to everybody. We even got the choir director to defend us and help us get away with it. This wasn’t serious stuff by today’s standards. We weren’t doing drugs or getting drunk. We were kids messing around. He was seventeen; I was fourteen. We thought we had the world in our back pockets – until my mom found out.
She was a single mom working hard to raise her four kids. She couldn’t keep an eye on us all the time, but the neighbors could. The lady across the street noticed my boyfriend’s truck in our driveway long past time for school to start. (This was after my mother had already forbidden me to see him again or have any friends over when she wasn’t home.) Our kindly neighbor lady called Mom to report. It was not a good day. By the end of it, I was faced with no friends, detention at school and a one year grounding sentence. My punishment disallowed me any association with this boy or his family for an entire year. That included any event or group in which he might be involved. So long, show choir. Adios, dance classes, plays and theatre. Good bye, Broadway.
The only social activities permitted were sports or church. I’m not athletic, so basically just church. I resented this from the tips of my toes. I blamed God for my parents’ divorce and didn’t appreciate having Him forced on me. If He really was all powerful, then He should have fixed my family. He didn’t. Instead we were drug through years of painful court proceedings, counseling and public humiliation. In a town that small, everyone and their mothers knew more about me and our family’s drama than I did. It was God’s fault and now, as punishment, I had to sit in church and hear all about Him every Sunday and Wednesday.
I begrudgingly joined the youth group. We had journals to keep and lessons to finish between each meeting. It was meant to teach consistent devotions, quiet times of studying the Bible and praying each day. I usually did the whole week’s worth in one sitting. They were short and this kept my penance to a minimum.
I don’t remember what the lesson was on January 16th. I don’t remember what day it was or what else was going on. What I remember is the verse I read and the thoughts that coursed through my mind.
“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” – Romans 8:38-39
If none of these things could pull me away from God’s love, who was I to even try? I am no match for angels or demons or laws and powers. I am nothing and yet I realized, ever since my parents split nine years before, I had subconsciously been doing everything in my strength to abandon God. And in spite of all my efforts, blasphemy and rebellion, He still loved me. He would not allow me to abandon Him. Furthermore, He would never, ever abandon me.
Never before had I been loved like that. Oh, my mother loves me without strings or conditions, but she doesn’t know my heart. She doesn’t see my secret thoughts. God does – and He still loves me. He knows my words before they touch my tongue. He knows my thoughts and actions before I wake each morning. He knows all my faults, embarrassments and ill-conceived pride … and He still loves me! Faced with this kind of love I saw no choice but to embrace it. I confessed my weaknesses before Him and promised to live the rest of my days for His glory. Where He wanted me, I would go. What He asked of me, I would do. I surrendered all my will to Him and have never regretted it.
It has been fifteen years and I am so far from being perfect. Fortunately, I don’t need to be perfect – God loves me anyway. And I continue to put my faith in Him: that what He says is true and what He says, He will do. He says He loves me, and so it is true. He says He will give eternal life to those who believe, and that He will do. Praise be to Him!
If any of this is confusing to you or if you want to know more, please do not hesitate to email me. I would love nothing more than to discuss this with you further. I have found an awesome freedom in knowing God personally. I long to have you know Him too.
Labels: birthday, child, discipline, Father, God's love, salvation, trials
1 Comments:
I don't know whether or not you actually felt the anointing of the Holy Spirit on you as you shared this, but it is anointed.
I, too, came from a broken home, and my parents' divorce was severely destructive and humiliating. I'm SO thankful I knew the Lord then, too.
I appreciate the fellowship of this post, and your spirit in sharing it. It is representative of the beauty of Truth; all Jesus is and has for each one of us.
Happy Rebirthday!!!
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