I grew up in a Christian family and did all the things other Christian kids did. Going to sunday school, joining youth fellowships and trusting God as my Lord and Saviour. Although I was “born” into a Christian family, I genuinely knew for myself that God was real in my life. I ended up getting very involved in the youth worships; playing the guitar and occasionally leading it. Everything seemed to be heading in the right direction. God blessed me tremendously. I did very well in school; getting scholarships, book prizes and the lot. I never had any major catastrophes to deal with. So basically life was all good.
Well in any story, there has got be some twist and turns right? At some point in time my “perfect” family started to crumble. Sparing the details, my sheltered existence took one of the biggest downturns I had ever been accosted with. I started to blame God for everything bad that happened even though I knew he had an infallible plan for us all. Despite that, blaming someone else was always the easiest option. I simply chose to not see his faithfulness carrying me through.
I wanted more than just contend to know that God was there. Becoming defiant, I conveniently turned my back to him. I wanted my own “Miracle” to prove that God still loved me. I would often say: “If you are omnipotent and all knowing, show me a sign. Show me that you are real to me.”
From then on, things got really bad. I dropped out of church and indulged in almost everything unholy and corrupt. To be honest, I haven’t really fully recovered until this day. Although I knew deep down that God was always watching me and keeping me safe, I elected to ignore all the little rainbows he sent to me. So there I was, continuing with my new-found “freedom” and uninhibited lifestyle.
I guess everything has a threshold. As a balloon can only stretch that much, a person can only tolerate so much pain. My breakdown point was really Jero. (in a few posts prior) He is such a darling to me that I really didn’t have the strength to envisage the possibility of loosing him so soon. In desperation, I could only think of God to turn to. He was the only One that I could really confide in and pour everything that hurt me all these years. In all candor, it felt really good. It felt like all the weight that had burdened me all this time was suddenly lifted.
All this desolate while, my oasis was right in front of me. I had just blatantly brushed it off as a mirage; turning a blind eye to it. I had my “Miracle” all along. It just took Jero to show it to me.
No, the miracle wasn’t Jero’s recovery. It is God’s steadfast love and endless mercy for me. It is God’s undying affection for a wayward child like me. He is the alpha and the omega that I just didn’t want to see. He did not promise life to be a bed of roses. But he did promise that he’ll be there to carry us all through. Amen.