Inner Tug-of-War
My Journey to the Throne of Grace
My journey to the throne began in early childhood when my mother compelled us to attend church. Oddly, even as a youngster, there was a sense of God, or something greater than myself, but I didn't enjoy church. The rituals and symbols seemed off-putting to me. My mother would wake us up early and dress us in formal clothes. I couldn't understand why God would care about what we were wearing. I also questioned why the choir and preacher dressed in fancy robes. Did it somehow make their singing or preaching better? I was also puzzled by the concept of giving money to God. On top of all this, I noticed hypocrisy among the churchgoers - they would behave differently inside the church compared to outside. At one point, my mother even explored other religions like Buddhism.
I'll never forget the sound of the bell and the strange chants at the shrine. Although I believed in a higher power, I distanced myself from organized religion as I got older. And yet, the further I moved away, God would continue to tap me on the shoulder. If not to get me to turn around, then at the least to remind me that he was there, calling me in a different direction. On many occasions, random people would stop and ask to pray for me. Knowing I could use it, and even wanting God's help, I welcomed it. I always walked away wondering why that just happened. It was like there was this inner tug-of-war in my spirit that would pop up for a moment until it was eventually suppressed by a wayward lifestyle. I was in open rebellion even to the things I had promised myself I would never do. And this is why I say to this day trust no one except God 100% of the time because the reality is you can't even trust yourself at times. Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight, Proverbs chapter three verses five through six.
Despite the guardrails of a dream of music stardom that kept me goal-oriented and focused, I experienced several wake-up calls. These culminated in what I believe was a terrifying encounter with God before I finally abandoned everything for the privilege to sit at His throne of grace. The final wake-up call was losing my best friend in a terrible car accident. In one of our last conversations, he revealed to me a memorable dream he had of Christ hanging on the cross. Knowing his lifestyle, it served as a sign for me to urge him to slow down. I remember driving to his funeral. It was overcast and rainy. While looking out the window, I asked myself, "Is there anyone I can trust?" The answer was a resounding, "No." Afterward, I flirted with the apex question of God and began to make serious strides in his direction. But it wasn't until one fateful night when I felt the terrifying presence of God and this overwhelming feeling that I was not permitted to turn back in any other direction. I felt compelled in my spirit to only move in the direction of him. I felt chosen. I gave my life to Christ at nineteen and have been a disciple ever since.
To Thy Matchless Glory 👑