Day 01 #DailyDevotionals
I am raised as a pastor’s kid. Everything is always about God since the beginning. My parents basically lives by faith in their highest and lowest points of life. I often hear (they told me) about how Jesus is real and answered their prayers in the time of need.
One time when I was about 5, I had typhus and have to be hospitalized. They have no money, that time. It was in 2003 and their economics were hard especially after the monetary crisis that occured in 1998 on my birth year. They truly believe that God will answer their urgent prayer and need. So they stepped out by faith. They don’t care whether they have money or not, they’ll do what’s best for their child. In a few minutes, the 5 year old me was put in the car, ready to head for the hospital with a big, fat zero money in my parents’ pocket.
Then the telephone rang.
I know this is the turning point of everything, just like in the movies. But this time it’s real.
A friend of Dad’s spoke on the other line, telling him that he was looking for pastors to bless with the amount of 4 million rupiah each, which is now equivalent to 20 million rupiah (approximately). And that person just transferred to my Dad’s account, which means he could withdraw them now. My Dad was speechless and amazed to how God works so mysteriously in many ways. Not only that, his friend said that there’ll be another transfer coming in.
That’s it. Living by faith. Not only believing, but taking action. Then help will be on the way.
As I grew up, I often have this inner battle inside of me, doubting the existence of God. I mean, people will be thinking like ‘Oh, come on! You’re a pastor’s kid, you shouldn’t be doing that! You’re breaking the holy code that’s programmed in your genetics, to not to doubt God!’. Hey, all pastors’ kids are not superhumans. I started to see church and things that we do as mere traditions, twisting the Biblical truths 180 degrees in my mind during my solitude moments alone. Well, I do believe in God, sometimes, when there were people around who are totally convinced with the existence of God, sharing motivational stories and stuffs. I rationalized God’s words in my mind with the puny knowledge I had in my brain. I remembered my friend’s description that “Jesus only exists in Sunday school colouring books” when he shared a testimony about how his life was before he got saved. I chuckled. Yes, I felt the same that time.
My life was empty. I loved my self. I loved my hobbies over God. I loved my ego and the independence of being the ‘real me’ as I defined my self. I felt borderless, free from the high expectations that people are giving me as a pastor’s kid. However, deep down inside of me I felt restless and started to become weary, tired of everything. The freedom that I longed for was no liberty that I craved for. It only made things worse. My ego was getting the better of me everyday. My independent thoughts led me astray. I saw my self as someone else I’m not. What was worse, I was in the music ministry and I served with an empty heart.
Those tricks continued to play in my mind, every single day, forcing me to accept another concept of my identity. I felt that those good stories where God helped my parents out are just…. yeah, stories. Stories that deserves to be put on a high shelf where no one can touch it and soon gonna be forgotten. My mind were starting to wander off somewhere. As long as I could remember, I never opened my Bible except in Church (using e-Bibles) or read them when I’m in a good mood. I read tons of novels instead, which gave me these so-called, awe inspiring ideas of being independent. Well, it’s nothing wrong to see from another perspective of the author’s. But because my standards were failing, I embraced those things and got carried away with the flow. Real. Far.
This was my critical point. I felt exhausted. I was drained. I wanted to end everything. But life’s not a game to mess with. When you quit, it’s a game over for good. You don’t end up in heaven (or paradise as they called it) for performing suicides, but hell.
Then a few months later in March 2014, my church held a Purple Book class, one of those Bible foundation classes from Every Nation Church. There we talked about repentance, baptism, speaking in tongue and other important stuffs.
When we came to the baptism chapter, I was scared. Not that scared, but rather nervous and guilty. I’m freaking out! I remember all those things I did in the past. They were like coming back for me. I was losing hold of my life. I didn’t want to give my life to God. It was like… hey, it’s mine! I deserve every right to control it by my self, do all things according to my own idealist ways. “I’m slipping, man. And it’s time to get a grip,” as Bryce would say in the movie Flipped. Plus I shuddered at the idea to be prophesied after the baptism. I’m afraid and terrified to imagine, what if the pastor (my own Dad!) reveals my sins and guilt in front of people? What if God directly accuses my mistakes and tell me to become a better person, right at that moment? No. I’m too horrified. That’s not happening, thank you.
Finally, the baptism day arrived. There we prayed together and dedicated our lives to him. In previous classes, I re-dedicated my life to Jesus because I already received salvation when I was 10 (The only thing I remembered was that I gave up on loving Barbie and started loving Jesus instead). But what I really did is leaving Him.
So I entered the pool along with my other friends, my brother and my sister. Before I was dipped into the water, I could still flash back when my soul was giddy to look forward for another brand new chapter of my life, yet doubted my self for that. And scared (again) at the same time. Am I able to make it or not?
“Ready?” the pastor (duh, my dad hahaha) asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
“Yeah,” I quietly nodded.
I couldn’t believe that I’m gonna be a new creation. For real?
“Believe, Debra. Believe,” he said, as if he was reading my thoughts.
I closed my eyes. Yes, for once I’ll let go of my self.
I could feel Dad’s hand on top of my head and the other on my shoulder, pushing me into the cool water. My fingers pinched my nose closed, my mouth shut, holding back my breath.
Everything was still inside the blue water, until the hydrogen particles came rushing into my clothes, soaking me wet.
“Blaahh!” I gasped for air.
For a moment things were a blur. My friends were cheering for me, shouting in excitement. Then I came to realization that something is missing, but in a good way! It was like a huge amount of burden had been lifted from my shoulder, no longer binding me. Like a minute ago it was a cloudy, rainy day and suddenly – TADAA! – the sunshine broke in. I wanted to shout, sing, jump and cry at the same time. I couldn’t put them into words. Now I know this is the “joy” that apostle Paul was raving about, the true meaning of the word “joy” sung in Sunday services. I’ve experienced it and it’s really priceless. I am free. I can feel it. And I am aware of His love for me, like this whole time Jesus is waiting for me to run into his arms. I’m just… overwhelmed.
The next thing we did after showering was to be prophesied. I was a little bit worried, though. But when it was my turn, it was unlike what I expected to be.
There God promised me a whole new world (this may sound a bit exaggerated for your ears, but it’s the way I see it) with a bright future. I don’t know why, but I am sure and confident that what will happen will happen. It’s like God was re-tracing my footsteps, slowly guiding me to the right path. There between the prophesy, I found my new identity as His daughter with a purpose. My wound was no longer bleeding. God heals it. Though there were marks and scars left, the pain doesn’t hurt anymore. Yes, I forgave my self. I’m accepted. Guilt? Pain? Arrogance? BTDT (been there, done that haha!). All those things were taken away from me. It’s my job now not to keep them coming again, though sometimes flickers of the past wrongs tried to haunt me. But I confide only in Jesus Christ alone, to have my freedom in Him, to be cut away from the bondage of my independent, lusting ego.
I was touched how Jesus is willing to take the stabs and lashes for my place. His actions are priceless. It’s the ultimate sacrifice to redeem the old me, the old ways and the old rebellion. “I’d jump in front of a train for ya… take a bullet straight to my brain for ya,” Bruno Mars described it. But Jesus literally did more than Bruno Mars, not just singing the lyrics over and over again with those empty words, but He took it seriously just for me. It’s done.
I’ve cried my eyes out when all of us spoke in tongue several days before the baptism. At first I thought it was weird, then when I started surrendering to God, there is a new portal opening up between me and Him. It’s so personal. My spirit was communicating with His. There I felt so special, loved, cherished though I’ve hurt Him so badly many times. No one can compare to Him. He even died for me. Who would do that? To take the blame the entire world has put on Him? We’re just too selfish to realize that. Your journey with God is your own responsibility, no matter whether you’re a pastor’s kid or not.
The following years after that, I’ve experienced more of Him and still returns with puffy eyes (yet happy heart!) each time I encountered Him personally, especially during the 10 Days’ team visit to my city. “You are that precious jewel that I’m after. I’ve left everything behind just for you,” Jesus said that to me, during the team’s prophetic session. He knows that I’m always thirsty to be loved by Him and don’t even care about my drenched, sticky face. “I will protect you,” that’s what He said during a worship session (in Every Nation’s IGNITE Conference 2015).
Jesus is so wonderful to me. He took my pain away and no I’m restless and guilty no more. It’s not the end of the road, because new levels of challenges are yet to come. But I won’t do it on my own, but only with His unmeritted favor He gave to me – grace.
He is real.
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