13
January 2004
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Who is this king of glory who pursues me with his love? - Third Day It's a heady to thing to realize that no matter how far away from God you run, he'll always chase after you. He'll leave the backdoor light on and wait patiently for your return; He'll go to sleep with one eye open and wait for you to crawl through your bedroom window as you hope he didn't notice that you'd snuck away. It's scary for me to write about this, because as ludicrous as it sounds, I don't want to be judged. It's unnerving to let people know that I turned my back on God and yet every day I beg him to forgive me, all the while ignoring his trusted guidance. I'm the ultimate example of the spoiled, headstrong child who demands to dress herself, but who always ends up leaving her house with one shoe and her shirt on backwards. When you put faith in terms like that it seems silly, both because it's a simplistic analogy, but also because, at least to me, the answer becomes clear. If I don't want to spend my life wearing a single scuffed-up Ked and a backwards tee, why don't I just ask for some help? I don't know - why don't I? I'm trying to figure that out - what it is about me that makes me so undisciplined, but also so incredibly stubborn. Who am I that the Lord of all the Earth would care to know my name? - Casting Crowns I know that many people are atheistic because they think it's logical and sane and that they're "too smart" to fall for the stories of the Bible. Believe me, I know what that feels like. I used to think that way. In some ways, I still do. I've always longed to have faith like a child - to be able to believe it just because it was the truth. And I spent many years trying to convince myself of the Too Smart Fallacy, and what I've come to realize is that I'm not smart enough to fully grasp the story of Jesus. To understand the roads he walked and the hill he climbed. I spent most of my recent vacation reading books by men who've spent their lives investigating the historicity of Jesus. The amount of literature out there on this topic, by both sides, is mind blowing. Which of course begs the question, what is it about this man that has caused hundreds of people, for centuries, to work their entire lives to understand his thirty-three years? You found me in my place of loneliness. Said there's more to life than this. - FFH I've never shared the following story because I never felt like it was my story to share, but now, four years later, I feel compelled to write about it, because it touched me, and I think about it, about her, every day. On September 15, 1999 a man dressed in black walked into a Baptist church outside Ft. Worth, Texas and open fired. When he was done shooting, seven people were dead, including Kim Jones. Kim came to Theiss Elementary in 1985, and she was immediately well liked. She had long hair and dimples and a voice that rocked our elementary school choir. She joined Troop 3036 and came to the Halloween party that T and I hosted dressed as a Spanish dancer. She lived catty-corner from T and down the street from me, and she was sweet and generous, always inviting us over for pool parties and to spend the night. Kim was quiet, kind and pretty. We had our share of juvenile fights, like the time she was cast as the Queen of Hearts in our fifth-grade production of Alice of Wonderland, and I was her understudy. A few weeks before the musical she broke her ankle during recess, and slightly gleefully, I'll have to admit, I asked the choir director if that meant that I was now the Queen of Hearts. It didn't. In the seventh grade the Golden Boy from elementary school came back to town and Kim "stole" him out from under us. But she and I also wore the same outfits to school and went on Girl Scout camping trips and to choir camp together. One summer, she held my hand and prayed with me when I announced that my parents were getting a divorce. Before we started junior high her mom invited a group of us over and asked a Mary Kay friend of hers to give us make-up lessons. (Needless to say, we all left that day with pink and blue eye shadow.) Once we got to high school we'd drifted apart. She was much more popular that I was - always on Student Council and she was even voted Who's Who in the Class of '94. I was actually surprised to hear that she'd gone on to seminary after college. It seemed off-balance with the teenager I'd known in high school, but in retrospect, it was perfectly in line with the girl I'd known as a child. After the shooting, a mutual friend told me that a few weeks earlier Kim had said to her mother, "Mom - aren't you just so excited to meet Jesus?" Her mom had responded something like, "Well, yes, but I can wait." Kim then said, "I can't wait. I just can't wait to meet Him." Even now, remembering that story makes me cry because shortly after that Kim did meet Him. And maybe it sounds stupid, or nonsensical, but I feel like I owe her. Just want to be with You. Just want this waiting to be over. I just want to be with You. And it helps to know the day is getting closer. - Chris Rice After she was voted Who's Who by the high school faculty, I thought, Kim? That's weird. Because those slots are usually reserved for the kids who were going on to Ivy League schools or who'd been the star in the school play every year or the head cheerleader/football captain or the girl who was president of student council all four years. Kim listed "undecided" where it asked for her college of choice and there were no National Honor Society Distinction or awards to speak of. But of course now, it makes perfect sense. And to God, Kim was always a Who's Who. We all are. And for a few short years she worked hard to let everyone know who her Savior was. She found a purpose in life. A mission. A calling. She was always effusive and energetic. I imagine that she easily became a cheerleader for the Good News. I have no doubt that she sang at the top of her lungs from every high rooftop and every low valley. And in the blink of an eye, in a violent act that became another front-page story, another indicator of our violent culture and fear mongering society, her work was finished. Yes, I'm on my way back home. Into the hands that made the wine from the water, into the hands of the potter. - Caedmon's Call And maybe that's why I feel like I should say that mine's not. It hasn't even started. Kim will always be 23. Well, I'm 27 and what have I done? What have I done so that people will understand that this girl died believing in something so powerful that I'm almost sure she died without fear? I hope she died without pain or anger. I hope she died with forgiveness on her tongue and joy in her heart. I'd be willing to bet on it. Now the question remains, am I willing to bet my life? When you live in a City on a Hill, you've got to shine your light. - Nicole Nordeman The notify is checking out Weight Challenged.
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