In company with perhaps a high percentage of other adolescents, I generally felt pretty insignificant, and small, and a little confused.
I had an underlying belief that what I felt or said just didn’t matter. If I was in a healthy place, I quieted that feeling with a stern voice. If in an unhealthy place, the vine would grow and entangle my words and pull my shoulders and eyes downward. The thought that I wasn’t worth remarking, was consistent and persevering. And there was no way around it outside of myself.
In the beginning of my middle school, prancing years I was given the opportunity to go to a Christian camp for free. I thought it’d be like other camps- some time outside, some fun happenings, some new friends, the usual. On the second morning, though, a passage began to color my world as a friend of mine spoke these words from Matthew 10:29, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. Even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.”
Those words were deeply personal. I heard in those words this: You are significant and known. Seen and understood. Connected and considered in all ways, even how many hairs are on your head. There is nothing about that you that is hidden or cloudy, milky. You’re being is beared and exposed to His eyes, and He loves every inch.
I had never heard this before in my life. Someone knew me and cared. A lot. Like to the extent that I desperately needed to be known.
It was all I could do to keep my jaw off the floor. This existed? This type of love? I was looking for somebody just like this- trustworthy, loving, kind, patient, powerful, beautiful, forgiving, creative, just, merciful- and I wanted that someone to be able to carry all of these things, all at one time, all toward my soul. To be bigger than myself. But this moment was not solely a pull towards God in all joyousness, there was also a very real tension inside of me. One that realized that if I were to follow God, there would be a cost.
When you encounter God there is a natural falling on your face, a realizing of who and what you are. A humbling encounter with the weak and the broken parts of yourself. You are speck of pixie dust in comparison, and your entire life has been made of offenses against Him and a lottttt of people. I not only wanted Him, but I quite literally needed Him to right all the wrongs and make it all ok.
And so during that week, I worshiped, I learned, I read, I experienced Christ through my friends and counselors, and I wrapped my head around what it would mean to live in forgiveness and follow Christ. At the end of the week, I learned above all things, that this was worth it and was everything that I had been looking for. Years later, I can tell you the very same thing. Walking with Jesus is worth it and He really is everything you’re looking for.
