Fifth Confession: I am a survivor

One year ago, I lost my house in the May 20th tornado in Moore, OK.  

That was one of the worst days of my life.  

I remember the feeling of the wet grass on my sandaled feet as I walked 20 blocks into "ground zero."

The air was brown, it was so thick with dirt.  Random household object blew in the wind, hanging from trees and telephone poles.  Torn baby pictures littered the ground. 

People walked dazed, in shock: we were zombies in a horror film.  

As I got closer and closer to my house, I kept up hope, surely it would not be my house that was hit.  Surely, it would be okay.  

I will never forget the moment I rounded the corner and saw that the tree in my front yard was gone. That's when I knew.  

We, (two of my brothers and my sister-in-law) stepped up to what was left of the house and I bust into tears.  I now know what being in shock is like.  It feels like being asleep, but you aren't a sleep you are awake...But you keep thinking and hoping that what you are looking at is not real.  But it is real.  I don't remember a lot about that night... Just the wet on my feet and the tears.. Grabbing random things and trying to save them.  It is all the days after that I remember.  

Things I took from the storm: 

First, I am NOT a victim.  I am a survivor.  

Victims are those who let themselves be beaten by their adversaries. They let themselves fall prey to the monsters rather than fight them.  They let the storm conquer them, rather than conquer it.  I should know, before the tornado I was a victim.  I let my past dictate who I was.  But not anymore.  I am a survivor.  I slay the dragons and fight for what is true rather than let the Satan's lies hold me forever under his thumb.  Only by the grace of God can I say this... And Only in His strength. 

Second, 

I learned to let the small stuff go.  I lost most of everything I ever owned.  I still limit at times over the roses from my Aunt's funeral and the gift from my great-grandmother that I will never see again... But I have learned that all that "stuff" does not matter as much as the people that they reminded us of.  Yes, things are important and through this I learned how many things it takes just to be at all normal.  Socks, alarm clock, laundry basket... But those things can be replaced.  People cannot. Don't sweat the small stuff.  EVERYTHING can change in the blink of an eye.  Enjoy what you have now... And don't fight about stupid stuff.

Third, 

I have an amazing family. Before the tornado, I was so depressed and lonely, I just wanted to end it all and go home to Jesus.  

But through the storm He surrounded me with a huge family that showed me, He really is real. And He really is good. 

They enveloped me with love and ANY and every need was met. I am in awe at how loved I am and how many were willing to stand beside me as I shoveled out my life.  Not just because it was "the right thing to do" but because they truly loved me.  Those relationships have only grown since then.  "The flower grown in adversity is the most beautiful and fragrant of all" -Mulan 

Fourth, 

God is still good.  I spray painted this on the side of my house.  I wanted to make a statement, not just to the "tourists" but to myself... And maybe even to God that this would not take my faith from me.  As horrible as that time was and even with all the awful things that I saw and had to do and live through... I never doubted, or rather it was cemented in my heart that He is good.  A question that I had always asked... Was answered in one of the greatest tragedies, my town and state has seen.  How can that even be true... That these horrors showed me His goodness.  I don't really have a good answer to that... But just that He was faithful even in the storm.  He was faithful, even when this life was not. He showed His goodness through His people and through His rainbows... Through His Spirit in my heart.  He is good and that was echoed in the wake of the storm.  

Now: 

Now I see that God's whispered promise one sleepless PTSD filled night was true. 

"This will not break you, it will shake the pieces into place." 

The storm will rage and the wind will blow, but His peace is still louder. His arms are still stronger.  He is still good. 

Fourth Confession: I don't get the Gospel

Preach the Gospel to yourself?  This is something I hear a lot but I don't think I ever completely got.
Maybe we think it simply means when something bad happens we should remind ourselves that Jesus died for our sins. Right?
True, this is the gospel.  But how does that really apply to our sleep deprived days, our mind numbing waiting, our deep seeded and burning worries in the everyday of our lives?
Grace? Yes.   Mercy?  Yes.   Love? Yes.  But the Gospel?  How does it apply?

What if we are looking at it from the wrong angle?  There are some things that just putting a Jesus band-aid on wont really help. Some hurts that are so powerful or perhaps still so ordinary, that just saying "Jesus died," doesn't seem to fit.  You have to go deeper.  Not deeper than Jesus, but deeper than our superficial view of Jesus.

What He did on the cross effected more than just the moment of salvation... But our entire being.

In our relationships:
He looked down into eternity and saw a man and a woman.  His son and His daughter.  Never in their brokenness could they have loved each other enough to make it work.  Never could there have been much more than sorrow, pain and selfishness.  But in His great love for them, He reached out. Filled the space between them.  Cleansed the sins they commit.  Washed away the words they say to each other.  Covered the multitude of sins with His love.  And made it so that they could be together in love and friendship...Where they would have never been able to love each other in their own strength, He loved them enough to save them from themselves.

In our pasts:
A girl with scars on her heart.  From the ordinary brokenness of being human.  Taken in by a King who saw her as special and bore the scars of her sins for her.  He looked out into her life and took her in when no one else could see past the average girl. He makes her scars lovely as a testament of His own scars.  As a sounding board for truth, mercy and redemption. Because her everyday struggle, bearable though it may seem, was not where He wanted to leave her.

In the very act of sin:
The person watching the pictures on the screen.  Seeing things that should never be seen.  Longing to stop, longing to stay.  He reaches out into that moment claims them again, as His own.  Washing them clean as if today were the first day of their new-birth.


What Jesus did was not just for a moment and then it is gone.  He is outside of time.  Grace is bigger than that.  What He did, who He is, lives with us in each moment.  In the triumphs and failures, grace is sufficient and the Gospel reaches out and covers so much more than just a prayer we say on our knees when following Jesus sounds like a nice idea...The Gospel follows us to that time when it sounds like anything but a nice idea.  When following is the hardest thing you can do.

Jesus.  My Jesus is more than just a God who died.  He is a God who lives.  A God who lives with me.