Can I Get a Witness?

In our church youth group, there is always a spring retreat.  It's an amazing time for fellowship and the seniors of the group share with others-they share their 'testimony'...their walk with God...their 'story'.  That would be a couple of year away for me, but it did start me thinking.  What would I say?  What in the world could I offer?

"Hi, I'm Abbie.  I'm a seeker.  I question my faith daily.  I fail on a monumental level."

When I was a little girl, I had a huge crush on Jesus.  Big.  The only other person that came close was Mr. Rogers, but that's a story for another day.  In the Catholic church, when you take first communion and have first confession, you dress as a bride since you are becoming the bride of Christ.  I wrote him love letters.  I wrote our initials together in my notebook-AL + JC.  I would sit in this this big chair we had and pretend I was sitting in his lap, my head on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around me.  And I would tell him everything that was in my head and my heart.  I talked to him every single day, knowing that at some point, he would magically appear and we would finally be together.  You have no idea the disappointment I felt when I first realized that I couldn't actually marry Christ.  It was truly heart breaking. 

My heart for Christ hasn't changed.  I am a Jesus junkie.  Whether he is the son of God and the head of the Christian church, or as other faiths believe, only a prophet.  I don't care.  I love him.  I'll follow him anywhere.  I'm the Mary at his feet.  I will wash them with my tears.  

I've studied many faiths in the past few years.  I was searching for peace.  Peace-inner peace-is a beautiful thing to me.  I've learned discipline and the power of positive thoughts.  But as far as I travel from Christ, I keep coming back because of one thing: hope.  Jesus uses the most unlikely people to do the most amazing things.  Twelve rough, scruffy or shunned men, the woman at the well, Lazarus.  He didn't just use ordinary people, but people you would never imagine could do his work.  I mean, really?  Who uses a dead guy in their act?  Maybe one day, he can use me.  And that is hope.

And perhaps that is what I have to offer as well.  I can't offer perfection.  Or be a role model of any kind.
So here is hope.  Hope in knowing that you can struggle and fail and question and screw up and he will still love you no matter what.  And that kind of love brings great peace.