By: Julie Hildebrand
@JulieHilde A few of years ago, I had a conversation that is seared in my mind as a reminder of all the work Jesus has done in my life. This conversation took place early one morning just as I’d finished an exercise class. One of my classmates and I were chatting in the parking lot about our families. She started to ask how I met my husband and then she said, “Oh, I guess you met while you were at Baylor together.” I told her that I didn’t go to Baylor and that my husband, Brody, and I met after college. Then, I added (because I often add), “It’s a good thing we didn’t go to the same school. He wouldn’t have dated me when we were in college.” Her eyes got bigger and she leaned in and asked, “Why? Was Brody wild when he was in college?” I giggled and then I could see that she was serious. I answered, “No, he was a straight arrow and wouldn’t have dated ME. I didn’t even apply to Baylor because they had dorm curfews and curfews weren’t in my college plan.” She laughed and said she could not even imagine me in that context. In a probably unexpected reaction, my eyes welled up and I said, “Praise God that you can’t recognize that person as me. Praise God for what He has done in my life.” I had a similar conversation just a few weeks ago while I was working on a ministry project with a new friend. She was asking about my walk with the Lord and specifically asked about my college years. I said, “Oh, in my early college years I thought Christians were weak-minded people who needed a crutch to get by in life. I saw no reason to give credit to God because anything I had I got for myself.” She tilted her head, furrowed her brow and said, “I can’t even imagine that person you just described was you.” But it was me. And again, I was so thankful that she could not reconcile who I was then and who she was sitting next to at that moment. Those exchanges might not seem like any big deal to most people, but they are treasured gifts from the Lord, just for me. They were just what my heart needed to hear, needed to receive. It was as though in those moments Jesus was saying, “It’s gone. You have received a new heart, a new life and a new identity in Me. They don’t see who you were, they see ME.” For years after college I struggled with “going out there” with my faith because I knew where I’d been. I knew what my heart was before Christ. And while I read scripture and understood the truth of redemption, and allowed it for other people, I struggled to believe it was also for me. Instead, I felt like a fraud (I wasn’t a fraud, I just have an accuser who uses the same tired tricks because he sure doesn’t want me “going out there” with my faith, either). These seemingly small conversations confirmed what Jesus wants me to know – He’s redeemed me and I am a new creation in Him. The old is gone and the new has come (2 Corinthians 5:17). So how did I get here from there? I prayed to receive Christ as my Savior when I was eight years old and I meant every word of the sinner’s prayer. However, I was not discipled and by the time high school rolled around, I filled my time, heart and mind with things of this world. I was prideful (still being sanctified in that area), foolish, self-reliant and had no need for God (or His annoying people). But by my junior year in college, I found myself incredibly lonely – even with people around me. It was then that I prayed, “Lord, I haven’t prayed in so long that I think I’ve forgotten how. I don’t even know if I’m doing this right, but I remember enough about You to know You hear even choppy, inarticulate prayers. Please come change my life. It’s been years, but I want to come back to You. Take anything out of my life that is a stumbling block to You. If You need to take every single friend out of my life to get to me, take them.” And He did just that. From that Saturday morning prayer in my bedroom in an apartment near SMU, He took a mustard seed prayer and moved mountains in my life. He did take away a lot of friends, but He faithfully replaced them with people who are still in my life today. He gave me a voracious appetite for His Word and a desire to talk to Him and hear His voice. He even had the most handsome straight-arrow man look my way – and never look away. The Lord has grown me in ways I could have never dreamed, taken me to places in His name that I would have never gone, built a family and showed me a capacity to love that I didn’t know was possible. And since I’m still breathing, I know He’s not finished with me yet. Before posting this, I struggled to know if this is what the Lord wanted me to write and whether it will be received in the way it is intended. Part of me wanted to delete it because it could be construed to be “all about me.” But some people may read my posts and have the impression that I grew up following Jesus and never wavered in my walk with Him. That is not the case, and this is not about me, but about what He’s done in me. I think that’s why I have struggled so mightily this month with the word, “receive.” I have no shortage of things to say about what I’ve received even above and beyond the blessed assurance of everlasting life, but it is all so incredibly personal. The new life and new identity that I’ve been given was tailor made by God, just for me. And I receive it. “Yet to all who received Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God.” (John 1:12) This post originally appeared on JulieHildebrand.com and was republished with permission.
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By: Julie Hildebrand @JulieHilde A few Sundays ago my husband and I found our usual seats in church, greeted the familiar faces around us and stood for the beautiful praise and worship music that was just starting. I warmed my hands on my sleeved disposable cup that held hot herbal tea and I sang between sips. Beautiful music, comfy seats and a hot beverage for the bitterly cold morning. Ahhhhh. Cozy. Easy like Sunday morning. As we sang the last song and got ready for the sermon, a man came to sit in the row in front of us. But before he could sit, he had to peel off layer upon layer of winter clothing. He removed his gloves, discarded his knitted hat, unwrapped his long scarf, and took off several layers of coats, jackets and fleeces. After he’d pared down all his extra layers, we finally recognized him as our friend, Ryan. As it turns out, Ryan was joining the church service late because several years ago he committed to be on the church’s parking team. He committed to stand outside, regardless of the weather, and help church-goers navigate the potential chaos of parking at a multi-acre church campus with several thousand other cars. As I continued to sip my hot tea, I was in awe of Ryan’s commitment. I gotta be honest, I would have likely called in a sub that particular morning. I’m sure Ryan didn’t feel like being out in the bitter cold, either. Yet there he was, honoring his commitment to his fellow church-goers, his church, and ultimately God. Since I’m prone to wonder, I imagined Ryan probably committed to be on the parking team on a day that was calm and beautiful. Maybe it was spring and there were birds chirping. The sun was shining, and only big fluffy white clouds in the sky. There was probably even a gentle, refreshing breeze. But with his sunny day pledge, he was also committing to days that would include heavy rain, freezing temperatures, hold-your-ground winds, and since it’s Texas, scorching heat (even on easy Sunday mornings). That is what commitment is – it’s making a promise of future action even when things get rough. And if it requires a commitment, you can bank on things getting rough. That’s the reason a commitment is even needed, because at some point, you are going to want to go back on what you said you’d do (me, too). Whether it’s your marriage, paying a credit card bill, finishing the year as room mom, taking your kid to soccer practice, or following the Lord you said you’d never forsake (see also Peter, see also me) – sooner or later you are not going to feel like following through with your commitment. Our feelings tell us to stay comfortable, avoid the struggle and pain. A commitment often requires us to move out of our comfort zone, struggle more than we think is necessary, and endure more pain than we thought possible. You can see why feelings often win the day over commitments. Unfortunately, our culture has embraced the feelings-trump-commitment mentality. It’s evident in our divorce rate, the number of people who opt to live together instead of committing to marriage, our debt (both nationally and individually), the number of fatherless families, and just about anywhere else you look in our society. We’ve (I’ve) got to be diligent to honor commitments, not just honoring our feelings in our “all-the-feels” culture. The Bible gives us so many examples of people who kept their commitments in agonizing circumstances. None was without risk or hardship in keeping their commitments, but God used each for His purposes and good (Romans 8:28). In each of their stories, feelings could have easily derailed their commitments:
Jesus committed to us then. He’s committed to us now. And He’s committed to coming back soon (John 14:1-3; Revelation 1:7; Revelation 22:12-13). And while we fail at keeping our commitments and others fail to keep their commitments to us, He never has and never will fail to keep His promises. Thank you, Jesus. Counter to our culture, feelings are not paramount. When we allow our feelings to reign over our commitments, not only do we break a promise, but we miss out on all the blessings that were on the other side of that kept commitment. At some point, keeping a commitment gets hard and our feelings don’t like hard. But that’s why commitments are needed. Here are a few questions about commitments in your own life (not going to lie, the last question was a hard one for me to confront):
This post originally appeared on JulieHildebrand.com and was republished with permission. |