Admittedly, the Hollywood version of this second installment would go something like: “I stepped into the torrential rain, and it cleansed my soul”—that all my pent-up anger, confusion, and hurt were washed away, leaving me with fresh perspective and renewed energy. While the truth isn’t quite so poetic, it doesn’t swing to the opposite extreme either. This was the first day of a journey I didn’t realize I was on until much later—my own personal exodus, if you will. A journey where, to truly know God, I had to first forget everything I thought I knew about Him. But first, before we push forward into this “exodus unknown” of mine, we need to backup and understand why I am sharing any of this at all.
A couple of years ago, a dear friend challenged me to start tracking answers to prayer. Naturally, I began digging through memories, trying to recall moments where God had responded. At first, nothing came to mind. But where I failed, the Father, in His patient style, showed up time after time. He brought long-forgotten prayers to the surface, each one met in ways that were undeniably for my good. Blessing after blessing, a quiet ministry of loving care. Over the course of about a year or so, He proved His faithfulness over and over in moments of pin point clarity as He brought distant memories of prayers back to the surface. My desperate and angry pleas, shared in my previous post, were one such encounter.
That afternoon in my car happened over 15 years ago, and I had long stopped thinking about it. That changed one evening while recounting how I believed a recent health struggle was actually an answer to a prayer I had prayed a decade earlier. At the tail end of that conversation, my daughter’s Spotify feed queued up Jeremy Riddle’s “How He Loves.” Having not heard it in a very long time, emotions came easily. Again, the words filled my heart with joy. In that moment, my mind’s eye saw myself in my car, pleading with God. Instantly I remembered the disparity between the song and how He then didn’t make me feel. As the memory settled in, my head and heart realized at once: that disparity was now almost foreign to me. It no longer defined my relationship with God; it no longer even had a place in me. My head and my heart were one, both in their knowledge and realization of the Father’s love and my love for Him. Who was once distant, abstract, or begrudging even, was now familiar, comforting, and home. What was once forced, fearful, and almost fake, was now genuine love, desire, and satisfaction. The contrast between the before and after was surprising…How had I missed that He had answered this?
As the full impact of this realization hit me, I felt as if the last 15 years were condensed into one moment. It wasn’t that my life flashed before my eyes, or that I replayed those 15 years in any sequence. It’s as if it was a single point of awareness for the entire time frame and in that single point, I was aware of His presence being there, the entire time. From beginning to end, there was no ebb or flow, no rise or fall—just His loving presence, as constant as time and gravity. Quietly, patiently, He guided me past my man-made obstacles and through my delusions of who I thought He was, until I finally began to see Him as He truly is. In that moment, as full clarity came, I crumbled on the inside and wept.
Some might be tempted to say that He waited 15 years to answer that prayer. I say, He answered that prayer for 15 years. No, He is still answering that prayer. We are His workmanship, created in Christ—and I believe He is still creating us, right now. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had to stop looking for God in order to see Him. I had to stop trying to conjure up feelings for Him in order to fall in love with Him. And now, with the benefit of perspective, I can see the Master Vine Grower’s expert care through a season where I felt completely alone.
I’ve decided to share this because my heart is tired of feeling isolated. It’s time to stop internalizing my journey and let His light shine—through me—before men. In prayer, I’ve felt His gentle pull in this direction more than once. I suspect it’s partly to help me continue processing what He’s done in me—but I also hope that by sharing, someone out there on a similar path might find hope or encouragement.
I’m not an expert. I don’t claim to have special insight or spiritual authority. I’m just a fellow traveler, taking one step at a time.
Up next…Why I stopped reading the Bible.