The Power of the Word

On Sunday's I wake up the earliest I do all week long, put on jeans and a nice top, and head off to Lancaster Evangelical Free Church, where I have been attending for almost 18 years. I have been teaching 2 year old sunday school for first service for two years now, and now more recently am assisting with a learning disabled boy in the classroom. On Tuesday's I head off to JR High youth group around 5, practice with the worship team, have leaders meeting, get attacked by my crazy small group, and the rest is better left for experience rather than words. Wednesday's I go to evening service with my best friend (who is also my boyfriend ;] ) Nate at Bible Baptist Church. I have attended Lititz Area Mennonite School from kindergarten to 8th grade, Dayspring Christian Academy in 9th grade, and Lititz Christian School 10th to 12th grade.

So why brag about my "holy" accomplishments? Well, I'm not trying to brag, but I'm trying to make a point. You can grow up in a Christian environment, willingly attend church, volunteer Christian services, go on missions trips, and teach the youth. But what does that REALLY mean for me?
I don't act the Christian life because I know it makes people happy, or its what my family wants. I truly am a Believer, I truly love my Savior, and my heart is set on missions. However, without being daily rooted in the Word, without continually being in conversation with God, without devotions every day (whatever time you choose)... is it fruitless?

In the first few weeks I went without these things, I would have said it's fine. I can survive without reading the Bible for a few weeks. I'm too tired. I'm too busy. I got enough "church" for the week. It gnawed on my heart, but I kept suppressing it. As months went by, so did my conscious, and I began to not care. I cared about God, about people's salvation, about people. I just didn't care to set time aside out of my busy life for Christ. I was thirsty to go deeper in the word, I wanted more, needed more... but I was withholding the water from myself.

I was drowning, but refused to swim to the surface.

For those of you who have ever felt that way, or currently think that you can go on like this... you can't. There comes a point where you burst. It may be weeks, it may be months. In my case, it took a year... perhaps more... I don't even know its been that long. My Bible lay idle on my desk every day except for when I used it on Sunday. My Prayer Journal has been untouched, hidden away in some desk drawer. My devotional books have collected dust on my bookshelf. My heart has become an empty cavern, full of cobwebs, cold as stone. And I wont let anyone in. I have barred everyone out. I yearn for the warmth of love, but I don't accept it.

I literally starved myself of God.

I say this in the present because it was only the past few weeks that I've finally let Jesus break down those barriers. I finally let him out of the prison in my heart. Yes, He's been in my heart, but I locked him away. And when I let him break me, I truly broke down.
I am humbled to think how devastated I was of what I have become. One night I let it all go. I wailed for hours, Nate holding me and rocking me, but I couldn't contain myself. I was letting God break my stone heart into pieces.

So why say all this? Why build myself up, tear myself down, and make myself look like an idiot? Because I am certain that most of us have been there - though some to more extreme of a degree than others. And though I may not have much of a voice, I still am able to speak... and perhaps help or inspire someone.

Why did I choose the title I did? After my breakdown, I realized I needed to start somewhere. After much prayer from Nate for me, and after much begging for forgiveness on my part... I knew I was truly forgiven and loved by my Savior. Now I had to do something more about it. So I opened up that Bible of mine, and began to read. The first night I read every single letter that Paul wrote. Each word pierced me like a double-edged sword. The Word is LIVING. While its only been a week or two since my letting go, I know I am changing. Simply reading devotions has already put me back into the right track. God's Word is powerful.
I know it will be a continual process. I know Satan's attack will be worse than ever, because he has lost his stronghold in my life. But I am finally prepared for the battle. I am suiting up, letting God soften my heart, and looking for His guidance in all I do.

In a last desperate attempt, I reached my hand towards the light as I was slowly sinking. His nail-pierced hands took mine, and pulled me from my ocean of lies. Now I have found life, and have found it abundantly.