On Obedience and Perfect Love

A lamp, not a floodlight.

Dear Vera,

God laughs.

I’m going to write to you today about the joy of living obediently, and as I do so, it’s as though I’m a fly on my own wall, looking on in both bewilderment and expectant peace, completely miffed at how fiercely my life took off at a right angle three years ago.

There was a time not too long ago when that word - obedience - would have had me recoiling. Other words would have had the same impact: Lord, authority, worship, sin. I had no reason to embrace these words or the worlds behind them. Why would I? Rebellion was not just my drumbeat but quite literally a part of my brand since childhood and well into my professional life.

Mine is a history marred by debauchery, partying, sexual immorality, and divorce, to name a few, all of which I plan on sharing with you when you are of age to hear it. There is power in our testimony, and the last thing I want is for you to walk away from your childhood with the impression that ours was a family trying our best to be Christian, or that the pursuit of righteousness strangled your early years. No. Instead, that you might look back at a family who saw the goodness and grace of God every single day of our lives, in the big things and the little things. That you got to know a God who saves, loves, forgives, and transforms. That you beheld, from a very young age, a God so precious that he was worth holding onto into your adulthood and beyond. (In Jesus’ name)

As I was saying, my life was rife with idolatry, and then… Jesus. Which is to say that my history has been redeemed, that therefore, there is no condemnation in Him. (Romans 8:1) How does one respond to the one who redeems? What is the correct response when met with that kind of power? What is the appropriate posture of the heart when, for the first time in one's life, one comes face to face with holiness?

When I encountered Jesus, he awoke my conscience. He helped me understand the law of love that He has indeed written on all our hearts, and instead of shaming me for all the many ways I had missed His mark, He gave me the gift of a revelation of His loving authority.

I hit the floor, Vera.

I wept for days.

I remember bawling in repentance, not out of guilt, but as a response to an outpouring of his love. I recently heard that confession is an admission of what we have done wrong, but that repentance is a natural response to hearing God’s truth for us. He had patiently stood guard in anticipation of the exact moment when he would allow me to see him. In his mercy, he allowed a severe detour so that my eventual testimony may glorify him; that one day I might tell you of how he left the 99 sheep for me, so that you might believe him when he tells you that he will indeed leave the 99 for you, too.

Recently, the Lord reminded me of his patience…