My Love Story With Jesus: Part 4 (The Wonderful Part!)

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3}

Scott & I got married in May of 2009. We definitely considered ourselves Christians. We were going to church, and—still slowly—learning more about God. Our friends Christine & Brice were huge sources of encouragement. To be honest, at first we were put-off by them. We got defensive when they witnessed to us. We felt like we were doing just fine, why should they tell us how to live? Of course, that’s not what they were doing, but that’s how it felt to our hardened hearts. But they were consistent. Always loving us and pouring into us with God’s love and truth. Christine invited me to join a Bible study with her. She was the only girl I knew in the whole group, but I went for a few weeks. We were reading a book called Becoming a Woman of Excellence. It was one of those study books where you had topics and verses and you had to answer questions and reflect on things. Therefore, I was spending more time in The Word. Reading the Bible had always been something I thought of as too boring or confusing to do much of. I didn’t think I would ever actual enjoy it or get anything out of it. The majority of my Bible reading happened in church. But because of this book I was led to scripture, and God spoke to me through that.

While this was going on, I was going through another life transition. I was in my second year of graduate school to become a teacher, a few months into student teaching, and I withdrew from the program. I decided not to teach. But I had no other plans. No job. No classes. So, I spent a lot of time at home alone for the next few months. In my free time, I decided to devote 30 minutes a day to God. I had always heard people talk about their “quiet time” or “time with God.” I figured I would give that a shot. I started out mostly reading and studying for my Bible study group. Then I decided to branch out from that a bit. But as I said, my knowledge of the Bible was sparse. I didn’t know where to begin! One day, during my quiet time, I picked up a book I had received from college graduation: The Purpose Driven Life for the Graduate. It’s basically just a book of verses, grouped together by different topics. I figured I would start there, find a verse or two that sounded interesting, and then go to The Bible for more depth and clarity.

The very first verse I stumbled across was Ephesians 1:4-5. “For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight. In love, he predestined us to be adopted as His sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will.” The first thing that jumped out to me was “holy and blameless.” I had been trying to be holy and blameless for so long. I was so tired and frustrated at always failing, at never feeling fulfilled. Why does He call us to be perfect when it’s IMPOSSIBLE?? But then I studied the verse further. I read through it several times, read the surrounding verses, read the commentary in my study Bible, and prayed about it. I probably spent a whole 30 minutes thinking about that verse! And I can tell you with absolute certainty and joy that when I walked away from those 30 minutes, I was a different person. I was saved, and I believed it!

I’ll break the verse down for you a bit, so you can see how this really opened up Christianity to me in a way I had never understood before. First of all, God chose me. Before the world even started! He knew me and chose me as a child of God! I realized the importance of being holy and blameless “in His sight.” I will never be perfect on this side of eternity, but I can find peace in knowing that God sees me as perfect. He is amazingly forgiving and, not only that, he forgets my past! It’s erased, gone, as if it never happened! Of course, it still impacts me, though I try not to let it. But to God, I never committed those sins. All that stuff I was feeling guilty about—forgotten! I realized God adopted us as children through Jesus. Not through me being a good person. Not through me making all the right choices and putting forth just the right amount of effort. Not through me abstaining from sex or going to church. JESUS did it. NOT ME.

And let me tell you, when you understand that—and I mean really grasp what that means, and when you believe that, you can’t help but to look at the situation differently. I suddenly realized: this is not about me! It’s about Jesus! All that pressure of having to be perfect was lifted. Suddenly I was overcome with thankfulness, joy, and love for Jesus for making that sacrifice for me and bridging the gap between me and God. And when you really believe what Jesus did, you suddenly don’t feel like you’re fulfilling a mandatory do’s and don’ts list to get to Heaven. You don’t feel tired and frustrated and like giving up. You feel unbelievably thankful, and all you can do is worship God for that. I cried tears of joy and relief. I let go of all my self-righteousness and decided right then and there that I was relying on the righteousness of God to cleanse me, guide me, and eventually bring me to Heaven.

After that all I wanted to do was learn more about my God and Savior! I was fired up! I read through the New Testament like it was addictive Young Adult fiction! I spent at least 30 minutes a day singing worship music, journaling, writing poetry, and reading the Bible. I was constantly jotting down verses and leaving them around the house—on the fridge, bulletin boards, our dry erase board was filled with them! I wanted to share all that I was learning with Scott. He was excited for me, but was also a little overwhelmed. He tried to read the Bible every day, too, but I could tell he was doing it because he felt guilty otherwise. He wanted to share in my enthusiasm. But I could tell it was forced.

Praise God that within just a few short weeks, Scott was also saved! He came to the same realizations I did during a church service where the pastor talked about God’s grace in his life. Scott left that service in tears, admitting that this was the first time he understood and appreciated God’s grace. And then he joined me in my “crazy Christian” antics. We read the Bible together, prayed together, went to church and a college service during the week.

Eventually the church service we were attending closed down. You can imagine my sorrow and frustration that yet another church I had grown to love was ending. We started going to the regular church services at First United Methodist, but found they simply weren’t fulfilling (or interesting) enough. So, thus began our church-shopping ventures part 2! That was a whole new chapter of challenges. We would try a church, talk about our likes and dislikes, and pick a new one… And there were plenty of times that we did not agree on everything. I wanted to go to Christine & Brice’s church, but Scott wasn’t feeling called there. I decided to submit to his spiritual leadership and trust that God would guide Scott to the perfect church home for us. And God did just that. We ended up at Connection Church, where we still attend—a year and a half later. Connection is a plant-church, and it was only a little over a year old at the time. It was still pretty small. But it has since grown tremendously! We now meet in a high school auditorium and sometimes have up to 700+ attendants! Scott & I both serve as leaders in different entities of the church. I work with the babies in children’s church. Scott works as a team leader in the parking lot, and has recently started leading worship for the 1^st thru 5^th graders in children’s church.

On October 9, 2011 our church did spontaneous baptisms. We had gotten a baptismal pool from another church that was moving, and they set it up in the parking lot. They did not tell us ahead of time that we were doing this. The sermon was all about taking the next step in your walk and how for many of us, that was a public demonstration of our dedication to God and the washing of our sins—baptism. Well, you know I was already baptized when I was 17, but I could hardly compare that to who I am now. That baptism was important and special to me, but I don’t think it was a true “believer’s baptism” as I didn’t understand the truths of what I was doing and who God is. Scott was baptized as a baby in the Catholic Church, but obviously could not remember that, nor did he have a choice in that matter. We both decided to get baptized at Connection on this day! It was an amazing experience. 54 people in our church made the decision to get baptized that day! It was powerful and beautiful. Here is a video documenting the day. Please watch. It’s short, but powerful!

Spontaneous Baptisms from Connection Church on Vimeo.

And now, I cannot say that my life is perfect. I’m not perfect. And I have seasons in my faith. Some days I don’t feel particularly excited about or connected to God. Some days I’m angry with Him. Sometimes I feel tired and frustrated like I used to. It really is a constant journey and a series of lessons—many of which I learn over and over again. But I have joy unlike any other time in my life, and that joy is unshaken by the world because it comes from God and my relationship with Him. And even if that’s not as smooth as I like, I know that God is good, faithful, and merciful…He is always there to guide me, provide for me, love me, forgive me, and accept me. And for that I am eternally grateful. And with that gratitude, comes all the worship and service I give to Him. And I am happy to do it.

My love story with Jesus is by no means over. It’s an eternal story that will continue to develop. But this is how it all started, and I can say with all certainty we will live joyfully ever after… 

My Love Story With Jesus: Part 3

{Part 1} {Part 2}

I realize this is taking me about 5 months to write! I apologize for my inconsistency. School has been crazy this semester, and this isn't exactly something you quickly write about before class. The good news is I've finished the story! This is the not the last part, but I've got the last one written and scheduled for tomorrow. So you'll have the rest of it, rapid fire! :)

You'll remember from the last part that I had just thrown myself into my new relationship with Scott. As Scott & I got more and more serious, I quickly realized that he could be the man I marry. And that forced me to think beyond the present. I had to think about what I wanted my life to look like years from now, with a husband and kids. I could not ignore the nagging concern that we would never be able to happily attend the same church. How would we raise our children? Would we be like my family and just not go? Would we adopt Scott’s Catholic upbringing and have them go through the traditions and customs of that denomination? Would I find a Protestant church and have them alternate weekends? None of those options brought peace. At this point I’m not sure I was motivated by a desire to know God, but rather a desire for the picture of a happy family, sharing beliefs and traditions.

I shared this with Scott. He wanted to make me happy, but he was very resistant to stepping out of his comfort zone of the traditions of the Catholic mass. To be fair, we decided we would alternate weekends. I would go to the Catholic Church twice a month, and on the other weekends, we would try out Protestant churches together. It was hard to stay motivated because of the inconsistency of services. Especially with me not having a church of my own, there were a lot of trial and error situations with “church-shopping.”

I remember one service at our friends Christine & Brice’s church (you may remember them as my old roommates from the previous parts of this story). During worship, people were raising their hands, shouting thanks to God, and one girl even cheered DURING a song. Scott fidgeted, looked uncomfortable, and whispered to me, “She would be excommunicated at my church!” We went to church every weekend, appeasing each other, but never truly feeling comfortable. I didn’t like the standing and kneeling, the formal atmosphere, and the restricted communion of the Catholic Church. Scott didn’t like the loud music, hand-raising and amen-ing, casual atmosphere of the more contemporary churches we tried.

Finally, and I honestly don’t remember exactly how it happened, we settled on a church! It was First United Methodist. We attended the college services, even though we both had graduated. It was still formal enough for Scott and contemporary enough for me. Eventually Scott came to enjoy and actually prefer the contemporary atmosphere. So, that’s how we found a church together.

In the midst of this, we were both slowly growing closer to God. We were also growing closer to each other. We got engaged in October of 2008, just a couple months after finding our church. Funnily enough, I have to say God used the show 7^th Heaven to guide us to abstinence. Scott & I had been watching reruns (yes, we’re that cool) and Simon was deciding if he wanted to have premarital sex. Of course, being a pastor’s dad, this was something he was expected NOT to do. But…he ends up doing it. Scott & I talked about how disappointed we were in Simon (yes, a little post-show reflection…haha!). I don’t remember the specifics of the conversation, but we ended up both disclosing that we felt guilty about having sex. I was SO relieved to have a partner who shared that feeling! It was incredible, like a huge weight had been lifted from my chest. Our wedding was still about 8 months away. I said something like, “Well, I’m sure you don’t want to stop now. Our wedding is too far away.” And he surprised me by saying he thought it was a good idea. Granted, it was probably easier for us knowing that the end was in sight. I’m not sure how we would have done if we weren’t even engaged yet. But I think God would have given us the strength to make that decision either way.

Now we were really growing closer to God. But still, as you can tell by my preoccupation with sex and drinking and all the rules, our focus was still skewed. I was trying with all my might to be a good person, someone worthy of God’s love and grace. I wanted to be perfect. For the first time in my life, I thought I was getting there. I didn’t have that pesky sexual immorality slowing me down. But there was not much joy in it. I felt like I was running a race I was not equipped to run. I was getting tired, frustrated, and angry with myself for not being able to meet perfection. I always thought if I could stop having sex I would be in the clear. But something was still missing. I was so confused because I was doing all the stuff. You know…church, praying, occasional Bible study… I wasn’t committing those really bad sins anymore. Why didn’t I feel fulfilled? It was so hard.

**The remaining post is scheduled and ready to go! You won't have to wait long, I promise!**

~Christy~ 

My Love Story With Jesus: Part 2 (Another hard part!)

If you have not already read it, I encourage you to read Part 1 of this story first.

To pick up where I left off, it was 2006, I was turning 21, and believed I was going to Hell. Because I didn’t want to stop going to bars, getting drunk, and sleeping with my boyfriend, I dropped out of the leadership team at Bridgeway: The Church on Campus. I recognized that I couldn’t have it both ways. I didn’t want to be a negative representation of our church, which I deeply cared about. But I was having fun, or at least what I thought was fun. Looking back, it’s hard to believe I ever enjoyed doing those things.

I kept going to church. I kept praying. I kept attending Bible studies. And it was torture. I was plagued with guilt and sorrow for my sins. I was taking a few creative writing classes that year, and I constantly wrote about my double-life. I wrote about Jesus coming back to accept his bride, watching me stumble down the aisle to meet him, looking at me with sadness in his eyes, and telling me I am not his child. I wrote about the double life of my hands—praying in one moment, and groping in another. My mouth—praying to God, singing praise songs, then taking shots, making out… It was really hard to keep up. I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I didn’t want my church friends to know what else I was doing. My boyfriend and other friends couldn’t understand. To them, the church was just trying to ruin my fun, to make me a boring Christian. There was no doubt that I wanted to be more devoted, but a large part of me feared that what I would be giving up was too high a cost.

I remember one church service in particular. I don’t remember what the sermon was about or what songs we sang, but I remember the pastor called any who needed prayer to come to the front, and for others to come up and lay hands on them to join them in prayer. I went up, along with several others. We ended up in a large web of people, all with hands on each other’s shoulders, all praying together and for each other. I could feel my roommate Christine and her fiancé Brice’s hands on my back. I was sobbing and praying about my confusion and guilt. I walked away knowing that I had to break up with my boyfriend. This seemed impossible to me, but I felt like it was the first step in the right direction.

I wish I could say that I obeyed God right then and there, broke up with my boyfriend, and it was all downhill from there. Not the case. It took me several weeks to work up the nerve to break up with my boyfriend, who I loved very much (even though we didn’t have a healthy relationship). After we broke up, I immediately started to regret it. I was lonely and sad. I stopped thinking about God and could only think about the boyfriend I had lost. I tried to get him back, but he agreed we should take a break. This should have been a great opportunity for me to work on my relationship with God, without the distraction of a boyfriend. But he had become more of a distraction than ever before. I was so depressed and alone.

As this was going on, our church was going under. The attendance had dropped significantly after our pastor moved. We spent nearly a full year with a different guest pastor every week. People eventually got tired of the inconsistency and moved on. Eventually the church shut down all together. I had never been to a church like that one before. It was contemporary with a band, young people, and lots of fellowship. I was convinced that I would never find another church like it. And with the decline of that church, went also my excitement for God.

Eventually, after more months of partying, dating other guys, and making more stupid mistakes, I ended up back together with my old boyfriend. We decided that we were going to make it work for real this time. We each came up with conditions that the other would need to follow for it to work. Mine was that he would have to find a church with me. I made no rules about sex. I guess my hope was that after he started going to church, he would want to stop.

I have to give him credit; he did everything I asked of him. He was genuinely trying. He tried out several churches with me, none that either of us liked very much.

Amidst all of this searching for a church and a renewed relationship with God, I met Scott Curley. I don’t want to go too much into that story b/c I hope to write it in more detail later. But as things progressed, I ended up breaking up with the boyfriend and getting together with Scott. He was Catholic and occasionally went to the Catholic Church in our area. He didn’t love it though. It is not a very exciting church. Early on we determined that I did not want to be Catholic. He did not want to be Protestant. There I was again, a boyfriend standing between me and God. But I liked him so much. It was new and exciting, and he was completely unlike my previous boyfriend. So, as I seem to do, I threw myself into it, and just stopped trying to figure out the church thing. I stopped trying to figure out the God thing, too. I guess on some level I still believed I would go to Hell because while I wasn’t partying as much or being as crazy, I was still having sex. But I tried not to think about it. It was easy not to think about it because I wasn’t going to church. I wasn’t praying. I wasn’t reading The Bible. There was nothing there to remind me that what I was doing was wrong. Nothing except for that lingering feeling in my heart. But for the moment, I pushed it aside and tried not to care.

Okay, still not the happy ending you were hoping for! It’s taking me longer to write than I thought. The NEXT one should be the happy one! 

My Love Story With Jesus: Part 1 (The hard part)

4 years ago I believed I was going to Hell.

Maybe I should start from the beginning.

Growing up I had heard about Jesus and God and Christianity. I knew a small handful of Bible stories and knew some bible songs (Deep and Wide, This Little Light of Mine, Jesus Loves Me, Jesus Loves the Little Children, etc…). I knew that Christmas was when Jesus was born. I’m not really sure that I knew Easter had to do with anything other than bunnies and eggs, though. And that was about it.

My earliest memories of church involve being forced to go to Sunday school once or twice a year at my grandparent’s church. I did crafts quietly, didn’t talk to anyone, and hoped that no one asked me anything about the Bible, of which I knew nothing about.

Later, in middle school and early high school, I would occasionally go to church or youth groups with friends. I have a distinct memory of attending a youth group where they were supposed to have Bible verses memorized from the previous week. Obviously I didn’t have an assignment, but the teacher wanted to include me. So, she said she would give me an easy one, and I could look it up if I wanted (I had to borrow my friend’s Bible b/c I didn’t own one)

John 3:16

My thoughts: Crap, crap, CRAP! I don’t know ANY verses! How far in is John? Beginning, middle, end? 3:16? Are those page numbers?

My face burned as I aimlessly flipped through the book, trying to act like I knew just what I was looking for, already embarrassed because obviously this was a verse I was expected to already know. My friend helped me find it. Thank God.

During my junior year of high school, I determined that I wanted to go to church for real. I wanted to be a good person. Good people go to church, right? It just felt like a good decision. Since my family had never been church-goers, I decided to start attending with my best friend Hayley and her family. Soon after, I got my driver’s license and started driving myself to church. I went nearly every week. I didn’t get involved in more than sitting through a 1-hour service each week, but I felt good about going. I felt like I was learning to be a better person. I even started praying before bed.

At the end of one service, the pastor began the typical wrap-up where he asked any who wanted to be saved or baptized to walk to the front of the room and meet one of the staff members to pray and talk. To me, baptism was the next logical step in my journey. That’s what Christians do, right? So, logically, I did it. The lady asked me if I had already been saved. I had no idea what she was talking about. I fibbed. Well, lied really. Probably the worst time to lie. But I thought if I told the truth, she wouldn’t let me get baptized. So, I said yes. She asked me about it. I told her it was at a youth group meeting where they asked if anyone wanted to be saved, and I said yes. I guess that was all she needed to hear because she scheduled my baptism for the next month.

I was genuinely excited. I recognized it was an important step. I invited all my friends and family, and was proud to call myself a Christian. The church I attended had a baptismal pool at the front of the sanctuary, behind and above the altar, covered by a screen when not in use. There were several other baptisms that day. I remember waiting anxiously, hoping that I didn’t accidentally breathe in water and choke. When it was my turn, I cautiously lowered myself into the pool, surprised by how warm it was. I was told to wear normal church clothes, so I wore black dress pants and a sleeveless turtleneck top. The sensation of getting in a pool with my clothes on reminded me of a few wild nights at a friend’s house…ending up fully clothed and in her pool in the backyard.

I don’t remember much about the actual baptism part. I don’t remember what the pastor said, though I assume he blessed me in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. I know I was dunked because I remember emerging, dripping wet, and rushing to change clothes before heading back into the sanctuary to see my friends and family. I was 17 years old.

Several months later, I got a job working at Kroger and wasn’t always off on Sundays. I started going to church less often. That July I started dating my neighbor and friend, whom I had had a crush on since I was about 12. I threw myself into the relationship, trying to live out every dream I’d had about him, before he went away to college in August. On July 11, 2003 I lost my virginity to him, at a camp site, after drinking several brightly colored, test-tube shooters by the fire. I felt no shame, had no sense that what I was doing was wrong in any way. Apparently I hadn’t attended enough church to even know that pre-marital sex is a sin.

Our relationship did not end when he went away to college, as we originally planned. In fact, we stayed together (in a painful, on-again-off-again fashion) for 4 years. I came down to Georgia Southern to join him the following year, where I continued my practice of partying, spending every night with him, and giving absolutely no thought whatsoever to church, God, Jesus, or anything other than having “fun” and being “in love.”

As I started my sophomore year of college, my roommate Christine started dragging me to church. I told her I was a Christian—I mean, I believed in God…isn’t that enough? I had been baptized, what more did she want? First I started going to the Wesley Foundation on Wednesday nights. Soon after I started going to Bridgeway: The Church on Campus on Sunday mornings. Then I joined the leadership team. And I learned that all the fun I had been having was actually a sin. I couldn’t deny that I believed in God. I couldn’t act like it didn’t matter. But I also couldn’t stop what I was doing. My boyfriend wouldn’t agree to stop having sex. He was an atheist and just assumed that my Christian friends were brainwashing me or trying to change me for the worse. I didn’t want to stop drinking. My 21^st birthday was coming up. I had to get completely wasted. I mean, I was turning 21 for crying out loud! 

So. There was no other option. I was going to Hell.

(Please read the next part of this story when I post it! I promise it will have a much happier ending!)