My Jesus.

My walk with my faith has not been a smooth one (are they ever?) but I don't have a deep story to tell you of how He saved me from drug or alcohol addiction.  I don't even have an deep and moving tale of how I was reared in an abusive home and was rescued by His grace.  I just have a plain story.  But, I have come to realize that although my story isn't filled with bells, whistles and colorful lights it is important...at least to me.  I believe it is important to Him as well. 

Growing up I  had  a wonderful Aunt & Uncle who would often take me to church.  I do credit them with leading me to the cross.  I don't think, without their allowing me to tag along, I would have ever come to know a personal relationship with Christ.  Then when I was 16, I met a boy who went to church without his parents and that was truly the beginning of my walk.  As we dated through the years. church was always a part and even when I wasn't walking the walk...I still had that sweet voice in the back of my mind reminding me of what was right and wrong.  Albeit I made many wrong choices...He was always there to remind me and try to keep me on the right path.  I say try because I often wandered.  I wanted my way, my timing, my fun. 

I have failed many times through the years, and continue to fail...but He continues to be there...pulling me up and not letting me go. The past few years have been the hardest and I feel the world telling me it would be easier just to play there.  I have tried to run, to stop this insanity called Christianity, to live in this world, be of this world. I have even turned away and said I don't want to play on this team anymore.  It seems to work for a little while and then I look around and go, "what am I doing this for?" I am afraid a lot.  It makes me question every moment, every decision. It leads me to being paralyzed sometimes and then I have no choice but to say there has to be something more....it is my Jesus. 

So, here I am...again...trying to get it right; continually filled with the gratefulness that He is forgiving and I am trying to hear the voice I have tried so desperately to forget.  Prayers don't come as easy as they once did, but I am re-learning much like a toddler learning to walk. I am once again a baby Christian.  My Jesus, please don't give up on me now.