I remember the night that I got saved. It wasn't anything that spectacular at the time. I just walked to the altar and kneeled down. I remember the preacher giving the altar call and at the age of 13 at the little Methodist church that we attended, I went down. I didn't know that much about Jesus. I did have a very healthy respect for Him due to my mama. She always took my sister and I to church. I always saw her doing her devotion so I knew it must be important. I prayed every night in my bed, now I lay me down to sleep. Not sure if that was because I was scared of the dark or afraid I would die, either way, I always remembered to do it. It wasn't my first time going to the altar. I remember when I was much younger, I went to a revival with my granny and poppy. I asked granny, "Can I go down there?" Of course, she said, "yes." I didn't really know exactly why I was going but I did believe in God and if the pastor said I needed Jesus, then I believed him. I always believed. Every since I can remember. I don't know if "it took" that night or not. Probably not. But, it was the right thing to do nonetheless. This time was different though. I remember getting out of bed the next morning and it was literally like God had repainted everything around me; there was a fresh coat of blue in the sky, the grass was greener then I had ever seen, and the sun was brighter. I felt like a bud just opening up on a rose bush on the first day of spring. New is the only way I can explain it. It makes me so sad to say that somewhere along the way all those beautiful hues faded. Looking back everything seems to be a blur. Not one thing in particular, just life in general. I just did life and didn't continue to include Him in it. I tried hard to be a good daughter, which was pretty difficult at times with a high school PE teacher mother and father/PE teacher, coach, principal and an older sister that set the standards pretty high. It wasn't their fault. It was just that I wanted to please everyone but always felt that I fell short. Middle school was okay but loved high school. Cheering became my favorite past time...my friends did too. Graduated. Went to college for one year. Married. Had a baby. Finished college. Started teaching. Had another baby. Divorced. And at my lowest point, I realized that somewhere a long the way...I had lost Jesus. And I desperately needed Him. You know where I found Him? Right where I left Him. He never left my side. He had never left my heart. He had always been attentive to me and my needs. I had never lost Him at all. When I finally got over myself long enough to realize that I couldn't do life without Him anymore and I didn't want to either, our relationship flourished. It was just He and I, so to speak, for almost eleven years, before He brought another man into my life. To be quite honest it was kinda hard for me to give up the kind of relationship I felt that we had. But, when He brought my husband into my life I knew without a doubt that he was God's gift to me. And with all the love in my heart, I accepted His gift. I'm so glad that I did.
Jesus told the church of Ephesus, I have this against you. You have forsaken your first love. Recently studying this in Revelation really gripped my heart! I can still remember my first love of Jesus, oh so well. I remember what it felt like as a young girl when he saved me. And as a 29 year old woman desperately seeking Him as I fell prostrate on the floor, crying out for Him. I remember how He flooded my soul with His grace and mercy. What an amazing feeling to realize that He had never stopped loving me. Not once. And realizing that I had always loved Him. It was acceptance like I had never known before. I can't help but be reminded of what it felt like when I found my husband after 10 years of being single. How much I loved him! And the day that we walked down the aisle to be joined...forever. There is and never will be another relationship that can compare to this... this side of heaven.
Jesus, may I always remember...
always on my lips, forever in my heart...
sammie jean
