The 23rd is a day rich with meaning in our home. Way back when (1997 to be exact), Jonathan and I started dating on July 23. Our first date was sharing a game of Putt-putt (mini-golf for you non-Michiganders). Three years and a few months later Jonathan suprised me and asked me to marry him on the banks of the Red River in Moorehead, Minnesota (right next to Fargo, eh!) on November 23, 2000. My dear roommate Wendy J. was in on that little scheme, as it was at her parents' home that he proposed. Of course I couldn't resist that cute middle child, so 7 months later we were married on June 23 in Pigeon, Michigan. Some would say, what a coincidence!! We know better:). Why God orchestrated all these events to happen on the 23rd of different months I don't know. Maybe He did it that way so we would count each of those days special and remember them! He is honored when we celebrate love and faithfulness I believe.
That alone seems like a lot of 23s, eh? (I'm sticking with the Fargo theme here, don't ya know...) Well, I have one more 23rd left to share about (that makes four for those who are counting). Today I am celebrating a sort of 10 year birthday/anniversary. February 23, 1997 was actually our original 23rd. Let me tell you how it all started...
I was a senior at Laker High School in 1997, a rural school with a graduating class of ~100 students. During the winter I ended a year long dating relationship with a nice guy from our area. Physically we were not on the same page and I knew it was time to step away from the relationship. I believe God was tugging at my heartstrings during this time as I felt an immense sense of freedom being out of that relationship. In high school I was involved in drama and was part of the cast of a play called Leader of the Pack: The Ellie Greenwich Story. Many of my friends were also in this production, including Jonathan and Jacob. Let me take a moment here to back up a bit...
I grew up in a wonderful home. I had very loving, encouraging parents and a cool older brother. I wasn't spoiled, but I didn't want for much. I worked hard at academics and set a goal early in high school of earning a scholarship to college. I was painfully shy in crowds, considered by many a "goody-two-shoes," yet had a nice, small group of friends who were generally "good kids"...the middle ground, not the in-crowd but not the rebel-rousers either. I grew up going to two different Catholic churches. I went through catechism and was confirmed later in high school with my parent's encouragement. I often resisted going to church. I struggled with it. I believed God existed, yet I sat in pews for many years to no end. I believed I was a good person and I honestly was tired of going to church. I left church feeling empty, and my senior year I began to have questions as to what Christianity was all about. Did being a Christian really mean just being a good person, believing there is a God, and that someday He will bring good people to Heaven and bad people will go to Hell? I had read a little bit in the Bible and prayed to God pretty often (especially before tests and during soccer games). Did that do it for God? Was that enough? Why did I feel so empty...?
Back to the play. I had come to know Jonathan through Drama fairly well. I really enjoyed hanging out with him and Jacob, as they were a goofy couple of guys - sincere people with great senses of humor. The details here get a bit fuzzy for me, but I knew that there was something different about these guys. I connected especially well with Jonathan and could talk easily with him, so I started asking him questions. I remember sitting with him in the cafeteria on the day I think I first approached him about God. I don't remember what I asked, but our conversations never stopped. Jonathan tried to help me through any questions I had about God and the Bible, and as we talked my hunger to know about God grew and grew. Jonathan was attending a non-denominational church at that time with his mother and some of his brothers, and he asked me if I would be interested in going. I started going to church on a regular basis, although it was a bit awkward at times attending a different style of service. My questions were still there and I began to have a deep desire to actually read and study what the Bible had to say. As the days passed an even deeper desire also grew in my heart.
Did I enjoy spending time with Jonathan as these days passed? Yes, immensely. Our friendship was rapidly growing and I honestly missed him very much when we were apart. But there was someone else who was calling out to my heart much more deeply than Jonathan ever could. I was beginning to realize that Jesus was who I had been missing all of those empty years. You see I never understood that what Jesus did on Good Friday and Easter is for each of us today. He died because I am not a good person. I sure seemed pretty good compared to a lot of people, but on February 23, 1997, God opened my eyes that I could never be good enough to earn His approval...to be let in the gates of Heaven someday. How could He let anyone there who is clothed in dirt? I may not have murdered, but I had been proud, lied, envied, gossipped...I had sinned! I was and am a sinner! How could He let me in Heaven with all of those stains upon my record. The reason Christ died on a cross on Good Friday is because the good that we do can never outweigh or replace the bad. The only thing that could make us pleasing to God is Christ living within us. You see when He died that day and then arose on Easter He defeated sin and His shed blood now covers all our sins. God sent Christ to die. He sent His own son to die. Why would He do this if we could enter Heaven without Him based on our good behavior? What does Easter mean?? It is an historical event, whether the world wants to examine it or not, it happened and what it can mean to everyone is hope! We could never be good enough to please God, but He offers us forgiveness. Severe mercy...
On February 23, 10 years ago, I became a Christian. What is a Christian? Simply this, one who follows Christ. How can anyone follow Christ? Simple: "...if you confess with your mouth, 'Jesus is Lord,' and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved. As the Scripture says, 'Anyone who trusts in him will never be put to shame.'" (found in the book of the Bible called Romans in chapter 10, verses 9-11) So on this 10th anniversary/birthday, I am now going to celebrate by going on a date with my now husband, Jonathan (we started dating 5 months later). Why, celebrate? Because the God who created this UNIVERSE cares personally about me. In fact He cares so much He let His son die for me. The God who created the Sun and the oceans is my God and I am His. Am I still a sinner? Yes! Am I now a good person? No!! But am I forgiven? Yes I am and that calls for a woohoooooooooooooooooooo! Thanks Jesus...
Great story! Thanks for sharing your testimony. I now know you a little better...
ReplyDeleteAmong all your 23rd's, you can add my birthday... though my special day in June pales in comparison to yours :)
Ahhhh, the ring flinger:) hehehe
ReplyDeletehey, it was good for me to read this...and reminisce of old days...good stuff. And I'm glad God really orchestrated the whole thing.
ReplyDeleteJoel, we did know that's your birthday! Sorry I forgot to mention it:).
ReplyDeleteJacob, we're praying for Janet:(. I'm also glad that God is sovereign!
What a wonderful and touching story, Angela. I do know you a little better now and can honestly say I can REALLY relate. I felt the same emptiness with church and God, but at the tender age of 12.
ReplyDeleteI grew up in the Catholic Church because my mother did too. My father grew up something (I’m not sure what), but didn’t attend church or talk about God much. My paternal grandmother (Grammy) lived with us since I was one and she was…a free spirit, without the clichés.
Going to CCD classes was just expected. My brother, five years my elder and the only one of my three siblings who lived with me, my parents, and Grammy (long story for another time), went regularly to CCD and never seemed to complain. He was confirmed and had a group of friends at church. Something I definitely did not have. I too was painfully shy and never had the courage to ask Father Dan any of my questions. Then Father Dan left for another congregation and the new priest was just not that welcoming to a shy little girl questioning her faith and the church’s rules and traditions.
Grammy had a tremendous influence on me since she was my best friend. Her free spirit and artistic spirituality led me to believe that there must be something else…something more. I asked my mom if I could stop attending CCD when I was 12 and she discussed my issues with me before agreeing to it. Even then I had strong opinions on political hot buttons that were irreconcilable with the church’s view. I inherited from my parent’s pro-girl, pro-choice, pro-lifestyle choice opinions that seemed in stark contrast to the church (well dad is a little more conservative or traditional than mom). I decided at 13 that I must be atheist if I was not Christian. Later in high school I was introduced to the idea of agnostic and realized that really explained how I felt at the time. After all I just had to have a label to help understand what I was going through. :)
So in college I decided it was time to figure out this religion thing and took a World Religions course. Oh boy, was I ever more confused. So many religions taught the same golden rule and a higher power or life force which I truly believed in. However, many contained a mystical side or patriarchal traditions that I just had a hard time accepting. Also so many tried to spread their ideas by the sword that I felt too sick to think about it. Most of my early twenties were pretty tumultuous and I was distracted from my search for a while. Then one day I found myself living in my own apartment for the first time, without any friends, a job that sucked, and had just been dumped by the guy I thought I was going to marry. I was grasping for any meaning I could get from all this pain. My mother taught me that all experiences are for your benefit (or in hear words, “God doesn’t give you anything you can’t handle”). They are things you have to go through to learn more about your self. At the time I questioned her, but now that I lived through it I am completely convinced.
I somehow came across the idea that if I learned to meditate that I could possibly find peace in my heart and mind. Then I found a book written by a Buddhist nun describing her search for peace and understanding. This was right on! I immediately searched out Buddhist mentors and came to the sad realization that they were all so far away even though I live outside Chicago, one of the biggest cities in our nation. Also like Christianity there are so many different denominations that you can’t just pick a Buddhist temple or sangha (community) and say you’re done. You have to find the one that makes sense, that makes your heart sing and quiets your mind. Since all of this research was done online I still felt questions and a certain kind of panic about the whole thing.
I found an American Buddhist sangha started by a Japanese monk that met twice a month in Evanston, IL in a meeting room at a Unitarian church. On paper (or computer screen) they sounded like a fit. At the time Evanston would be about a three-hour drive for me. So still being somewhat shy it took me two years to finally attend one of their services. Would you believe the one person who gave me courage (and pestering) enough to attend was your “cool older brother”. He drove me to my very first sangha and walked me to the door. I was so scared that this would not be the right place for me and that I would not feel accepted like the many times I attended Christian churches. After all how does a fallen Catholic suddenly claim she is a Buddhist? I thought they would see me as an outsider watching them out of curiosity. I was so wrong in such a happy way. The services were great. The Dharma talks by Rev. Kubose made sense (most of the time, he he, he can sometimes rabble and you are wondering where the heck is he going with this). The people of the sangha were warm, welcoming, and non-judgmental. I felt at home…my heart was singing. However, I still wondered how do I “become” Buddhist?
Rev. Kubose was teaching a course on Buddhism to a small group of Christian ministers in-training from a place in Indiana. I really can’t remember too much about them. This was some sort of thing were they spend a long weekend in Evanston to hear Rev. Kubose explain the main points of Buddhism and discuss the similarities and differences between Christianity and Buddhism. Rev. Kubose invited everyone in the sangha (a very small group) to attend. I was the only one who did. As he went through his presentations and the ministers in-training discussed the two religions it became completely clear to me.
I am Buddhist.
My mind was finally at peace after 15 years of searching. You know if it wasn’t for the strength and encouragement of those wonderful husbands of ours we may both still be wandering.
Love,
Melissa, The Out-law