02 February 2013

DeFEETed

For the ones who feel like giving up is the best option.

Can i ask you a question?

What is it that keeps you from thinking the Bible isn't about you?

*you roll eyes and click Facebook tab*

Don't run. I'm not going to preach at you. Just stick with me.

I am a normal, 21 year old girl trying to figure out this life thing, as I'm sure you are as well. Except possibly the 21 year old girl part.

It baffles me, really. The fact that in such a selfish world as ours, hardly anyone believes the Bible to be a story of their lives. A story written for them, about them.

Growing up in church and Christian school, the Bible was (thankfully, no sarcasm) shoved down my throat. Regularly.

Can i be honest? Bible class was my least favorite subject. I never disciplined myself to retain that kind of information. The things I was taught, the maps I drew, the tests I took, the scriptures I memorized on a weekly basis.

I never got it.

It was boring and it all sounded the same to me.

There were times I wanted to stand up and shout, "I got it! OK?! I understand. Adam and Eve screwed up, the Israelites were chosen, Moses heard the bush talk, Jonah somehow got swallowed by the whale and spit back out, Noah built an ark, David killed Goliath, Esther was brave, Jesus came to earth, was it God or Jesus? Or all three? Or one of them? Or are they the same? Whatever, he came down, he lived, he died, he rose, Matthew Mark Luke and John talked about it, Paul preached it, there's something about love, I can list 5 verses even non-Christians know, and in the end, the non believers will die a horrible death and there's something about a multi-headed creature and many metaphors I know we've talked about a million times, but I still don't understand. And here I am, living in the modern world, a slave to my thoughts, Becky told Sue I was a brat yesterday, I know because she made sure to say it as I walked by her locker, John doesn't like me because, of course, Riley always gets what she wants, I have a huge test on Friday that, if I fail, will result in my exile for at least a month and somehow I have to fill up my gas tank today in order to get to work. Oh, and don't even get me started about the drama at work."

The only time I ever cracked a Bible was for class, or to give the appearance of being super spiritual, or to find a really cool verse to draw on my wrist as a fake tattoo because ink poisoning was a myth and I was obviously invincible.

You know, for all those years I listen just enough to pass the tests. But I rarely heard anything.

There was a night in my life that I had just had enough. I was a typical hormonal teenage girl with issues. I knew everyone hated me and I knew there was no purpose for me here. My parents hated me (sarcasm) and i hated them (only sometimes) I wanted to hang out with my friends but I also didn't feel like being social. I was too cool at home and not cool enough at school. I had a million different dreams in mind and not two of them were even slightly related. I could really write a whole novel on just this topic.

But one night, I was laying on my floor. Crying about something. As usual. But this particular night, I was just done. I didn't want to do it anymore. I had reached the end of my rope.

I was laying on a body pillow crying so hard that my throat hurt. Good thing I never wore makeup because that was a goner.

I grew up in a conservative family and a liberal setting of extra curricular activities. I was always involved in something. But while my morals were set, my views weren't. Weird huh?

I knew the Bible. I knew the logistics. I also knew what the world had to offer and how much "better" it was than sitting in a coffee shop reading a 2,000 year old book I had no interest in about people in a desert.

While the things of the world didn't tempt me until college, I still had this whole Angel/Devil thing going on in my brain. Confused the heck out of me.

Stay with me. I'm gettin' there. It gets good, I promise.

So i was laying on this body pillow when my body reached its limit of tear production in an hour and I practically drained of fluids. More than half our body is made up of water, and I was on E. Below E. Not a good feeling.

So I passed out.

I had this vision. Now, I don't normally tell people this. Because we live in a society that believes you should be free to believe what you want to believe, but what you believe is wrong and stupid and you should really come up with something else to believe in.

No wonder the world has so many identity issues. We don't even know who we are as a country anymore.

Anyways, so I was passed out and all of the sudden I was dressed in a robe and head dress. Just like they wore 2,000 years ago. I was out of breath, panting, face down in the dirt trying to find the strength to pull myself up. There were people all around me pointing at me and screaming "UNCLEAN! UNCLEAN! Get her out of here!" I looked up and it took a minute for my eyes to focus because it was so bright. When all of the sudden I was getting trampled by a crowd of people walking together the same direction I was apparently headed before I hit the ground. I looked up and just before he passed there was a man ahead of me that people were talking about. I didn't know who he was, but I did at the same time. I yelled his name at the top of my lungs. But it was as if no noise was coming out of my mouth. I was sweating I was yelling so hard. And then everything became slow motion. All I could hear was my breath and the stomping of his feet. I reached out and couldn't move faster than slow motion. I touched his robe. I knew I was healed but I hid from him. I saw him turn around and I crossed my arms in the dirt in front of me and laid my head on top of them, burying my face, when suddenly I felt a hand. I got such a wave of peace through my body, I finally understood what people meant when they say "I think I've died and gone to heaven."

Still slow motion, all I could hear was my breath and his whisper. He grabbed the side of my face and pulled it up. I noticed he had gotten down to my eye level so I didn't have to do much work to see him. I woke up.

A few weeks later I had a breakthrough moment in worship on a church trip in which I had been completely unresponsive to the whole week. While others were crying, I was yawning.

The pastor told us to pray and ask God for a word to end the statement "He is," and then go back to the back of the room and write it on the provided chalk board walls. I wasn't havin' it.

God thought differently.

My knees were broken out from under me and I fell to the floor. My world became slow motion again. Being an actress, the whole slow motion thing adds a lot more drama, I guess that's why I felt it so much.

I was rocking back and forth with my hands on the back of my head when I heard "Whitney, Whitney. Whitney. He is here. He is here. He is here."

My Bible fell on the floor and opened to a story, much to my surprise.

You ready for this?

In Mark, I read of a woman who had been having issues for 12 years and everytime she were to show herself in public, she was to yell "Unclean!" She was face down in the dirt when she reached out to touch Jesus' cloak as He walked by. Jesus turned around and noticed her. He got down to her level to see who she was. Women in that time did not show their faces. She was healed. Forever.

"Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go now and be freed from your sufferings."

God knew.

All along, He knew.

I'm sure I had listened that story in the past, but I had never heard it. Until now.

The Bible was written for you, about you. And about a God who is bigger than anything you think you can or can't do. And then some.

He knows. He knew a long time ago.

"When you think you've reached the end of your rope, you've touched the hem of His garment."

Don't give up.

Just because you may have been knocked off your feet, deFEETed, you have not been defeated.

He loves you.

All my love,
Whit

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