The One Where I Meet Jesus

Chapter 1- The one where I meet Jesus

    Winters in the 1980’s were rough.  The snow came up to my knees. Everything was white. The icey, cursed stuff was sliding down my boot, and the air whipped at my cheeks. My mom was leading the trail. Each of us kids tried to match her straide and fall into her footsteps. It was a good thing she was short. I know my mood was dark. In combination with this terrible weather and early morning, my mind could not wrap around the idea that I was out here tramping through a blizzard. Why? WHy? WHY? If my brothers or I would have asked she would have given the same answer. “It is Sunday. We go to church. After everything He has done for us we can give him an hour of our time.” 

    Mom knew something we did not. Going to church was never out of obligation. It was out of love. My mom loves Jesus with every cell in her body. She has told us about his faithfulness and goodness before we could talk back. I loved my mom and respected her so I went (usually ) without a fuss.

    I grew up knowing of Jesus. Where he was born and the stories of his miracles.  I memorized all the players, scenes, and right answers. But something was missing. Did my knowledge of Jesus change the way I lived? No. Did my memorized bible verses make any difference in the way I treated people or saw my choices? No. I believed Jesus was the Son of God, I went to church, I tried my best to make better choices. But was I a Christian- a Christ follower. No, I was not. 

    I did however attend a local youth group which was nice for a couple of reasons. It was fun to hang out and eat pizza. We would do exciting adventures. One day, the Pastor of that youth group, Roy Gearhart, asked us if we wanted to go to a camp called “One Way Camp.” After he explained it, that was a hard no for me. It was all about Jesus stuff. Eventually we caved and packed out bags for Wesley Woods Campsite in Northern PA. 

    It was like nothing I ever experienced before. Worship with people raising their hands and singing out with all their voice. But not just with the outward displays. I felt something stirring within me.  We sat down and listened. This man preached about a Jesus that was not just in the past, but a Jesus who wanted to be in my present and future. He spoke about how he loved me and was chasing me. But he would never force anything one. You had to take the final step. He had an alter call. For those of you unfamiliar with an alter call (and I was certainly one of them!) It is a time where the pastor asks if you want to dedicate your heart desires and life to our Savior.  Few teenagers went up. My feet felt planted to the ground. I looked at the friends who came with me. I looked around at all of the strangers. I started to breathe fast and tried to tell my legs to stand. But  I didn’t. They closed the service and we went back to our bunks. 

    I was devastated. I thought I had blown it. I told Jesus I was so sorry over and over. If I was presented with that choice again, I would do it!  I tried to quietly cry into my pillow. Had I know Jesus like I know Him now, I could have prayed right there and danced into the family of God.

    The next morning, I got up and ate breakfast, did devotionals, did camp activities, and I was just waiting for that moment. When it was FINALLY time for worship. I practically dove into that church building. This is it. During worship time I felt something stirring inside of me. All I could think of is where I need to be. Then worship was over and the same pastor came up to preach. Please, please I silently prayed. Have him ask again. I am so sorry for not doing it the first time but please give me another chance. 

    He preached and I have no idea what it was about. What I do remember was the moment he said “if you have never personally met with Jesus and desire to be a part of his family, just come join me at the altar so I can pray for you. “

    That is all I needed. I have no idea why I didn’t pick an aisle seat since I knew what I was doing. I “excused me” and tripped and stumbled out of the set of chairs. I didn’t look to my left or right to see anyone else coming. My eyes were fixed on that altar. When I got up there, I dropped to my knees and sobbed. Jesus showed up. Jesus became real. Not just a story or a threat to be good. He was real. A real person who wanted me. Who went to the cross for my salvation. He loved ME! I remember someone coming over and putting oil on my forehead and praying for me. I don't know what they said, but I know what I was praying.  I just kept saying his name over and over “Jesus, oh Jesus. Thank-you.” ALthough I can’t remember everything I said, I do know I said “Jesus I am yours. I surrender everything I am to you. However you can use me for more souls to find THIS, to find you, I want to do it.”

    After praying and praying and quieting my heart, I opened my eyes and stood up. When I looked I saw something new. Everything was clearer and sharper. It was like before I had a haze over my eyes and I never knew it. Surrounding my feet was an ocean of teenagers on their knees, hands raised up, or praying in larger groups. 

    For one second I felt fear. I had just told the maker of heaven and earth that I would do anything for Him. What will that look like? I heard a small voice speaking into my heart. It said “No matter what comes, I will be with you. Always, until the very end of the age.“

    I met Jesus that day. I can honestly say my life has never been the same since. Have I had ups and downs? Of course. But never, ever have I felt alone. It wasn’t flashy music because all the lights were dim.   It wasn’t the countless Bible stories I could recall.  It wasn’t a  good man by the name of Jesus knelt down with me at that altar. I didn’t hear a word. Everything around me became like a tunnel.  He took my hands and said “no more.”

On July 17, 1996, I gave my life, my “who I am” to my Savior Jesus Christ.

    So when I returned from that camp experience, it wasn't through the threat of grounding and a bad reputation that made me make purer choices. It was that love freely given when I had nothing to offer. I was his daughter in a Kingdom that has no end.

    One Summer afternoon, I was reading my bible in the backyard armed with a highlighter. In the past I have been told what the Bible said but this time  I wanted to go right to the source. Plus at camp, our leaders told us that God will speak through his word. As I was reading the new testament Gospels- the ministry of Jesus- I ran across a verse that immediately had me in tears.  In the book of Luke in the 10th chapter and 2 verses it reads like this...

 

He (Jesus)  told them ( his disciples)  “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field. “    

Finally I made a connection with my name! Theresa means Harvester! Forget those girls' names that mean beautiful or lily of the valley. I believe that God has a special name for each and everyone of us. No two are alike and yours is unique to you. You have a name in a language of praise we do not know of yet.  Isaiah 49:16 says “Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands” 

    I found out who I am. I am the daughter of the Most High God. I am an ambassador of Heaven. He has plans that are too magnificent for me to even imagine. I know I am not where I should be, but at least I am heading in the right direction.

When Jesus Shows Up Everything Changes