Jesus Is My Hero

Before I get started with the who and what of this blog... I guess I should give the history of it all. It all started a few years back at V.N. # 1 where I was graciously invited to attend by the wonderful Pastor Patty. (V.N. in this case standing for Vida Nueva.) God spoke to me on numerous occasions that weekend, during worship, through the various talks given, and in my quiet time with Him one on one. I came home from that weekend with a new desire and a new found passion... serving. I set into the routine of serving on V.N. weekends. But each time I found myself anticipating two upcoming weekends... # 8 and # 9. Truth is God had promised great things for these weekends in my life, but I wasn't sure what those things would be.

The weekends, in the V.N. use of the word, have flown by. I have found myself doing things at V.N. that normally one would not find me doing. Public speaking, wearing goofy wigs and singing goofy songs, and sharing my otherwise hidden abilities and talents. Soon it was time for V.N. # 8... well almost. It was actually the weekend before... My Tres Dias weekend. One leader there in particular just spoke volumes to me... I found myself aching for his healing from cancer and to relieve his families pain. I heard God clearly speak to me that He was going to show Himself to me in a very real way in the months to follow my Tres Dias weekend. After returning home I was sure I could leave my troubles behind... I could face the world with a new light, a new and fresh belief in God. But the truth is I wasn't walking in the light that God was shining... I was walking in my own selfish beliefs. Days before serving on V.N. # 8 I found myself struggling with Buddhism. Something that has long been a source of interest and conflict in my life. It partly stems from my interest in China and Southeast Asia. I thought that Tres Dias would have cleared this issue in my life right up. But I soon realized that Tres Dias does not in and of itself solve any problems.

I drove to the campground to serve with a heavy heart. Unsure of what I truly believed in, and unsure of how people would react if they found out. I upheld to the best of my ability my composure all weekend. Careful not to be to obvious in my lack of participation in both communion and prayer. I took a special sort of pride in my ability to mask what was really going on in my life with typical Christian phrases and responses to answers. Example: "What has God been doing in your life lately?". My clever answer..."Oh gosh, where to begin. So much. He has been so faithful in everything, work and family stuff. How about you?". Careful enough to be vague enough so as not to have follow up questions, but not too vague as to leave them questioning my honesty. The weekend was spent contemplating leaving the campground. I spent the nights laying awake... thinking about things I had read in the previous days from Buddhist texts and comparing them to things I had heard on the weekend. I listened quietly to various conversations of other Christians... seeking wisdom and understanding from anyone who might understand what was going on my life. I heard comments about how good the talks were, how great the food was or was not, and beautiful the conference room was set up. But no one let on to signs of struggle in the past with other religions. I felt alone... I spent as much time alone as was possible. I cried much of the time I was alone, but feigned off my watery eyes for tiredness and allergies. I would have gladly given the money in my pocket... given all of my belongings with me on the campground to have just one person to talk to. During the weekend God reminded me of His promise to show Himself to me. He reminded me that He wants to be my hero.

Amongst my efforts to elude God, I found a sudden desire to begin drawing. But even in the midst of my drawing I could not escape God. I found myself drawing flowers and butterflies... and writing things with them like "Jesus Is My Comfort" or "You Are The Apple Of Gods Eye". But one particular picture became more than a simple drawing. It is a picture of this little girl wearing a princess tiara and a superhero cape. She is kneeling before the cross in a field of flowers and butterflies are flying all around. I guess you could say it is my inspiration for the phrase "Jesus Is My Hero". Because isn't that what I was truly seeking? A hero? I wanted someone I could depend on...someone I could trust to be there for me all of the time.

I used to think that to be a Christian you believed in God but depended on other Christians. When I was hurt and let down by Christians it was a huge blow. So I did the most logical thing... I ran... I began seeking other religions for my answers. Buddhism provided a sense of security in that the only one who could let me down was me. I didn't have to trust anyone else, I just had to love and have compassion for them. I begin spending more and more time in Buddhist Meditation. I found myself rising early and meditating at hours that I had never risen to pray at. I was faithful to get up and spend at least 15 minutes each morning. And without fail I spent at least 15 minutes each night. I would sit quietly and reflect on my breathing. I would calm my mind and my body, and I would allow myself to become mindful of my breathing. From there I would focus on something in particular... Maybe one day it was letting go of painful emotions... maybe one day it was finding joy and peace. But each day I found myself a little more at a time drifting from the Christian faith, but never not hearing the voice of God. Each morning as I would rise I would feel convicted to spend time with God rather than in meditation on the Buddha. I constantly felt God tugging on my heart to just listen to Him.

Why was it so hard to just trust God? All He wanted me to do was allow Him to be my hero. But for years my view had been blurred... I had been putting my faith in Christians rather than Christ. And putting your faith in people will always leave you broken hearted and disappointed. Perhaps finally I came to my senses... Perhaps it was the encouragement and godly advice of a dear friend and sister in Christ who let me know I wasn't alone. But it was probably the prayers of those who I realize really do care about me. God was there all along. He hasn't left me alone. He has allowed me to walk the path I have walked in order to become closer to Him... and to deepen my trust in Him. It is with much faith and determination now that I can seek Him as my God, my Savior and yes... My hero.

So why you ask were V.N. # 8 and V.N. #9 special to me... Though 9 has yet to come. #8 was special in and of the fact that God reminded me of that wonderful promise He made on my Tres Dias weekend... God told me He was going to do something big. He did. # 9 is going to be special... I don't know just how yet. But God is revealing Himself to me a little more each day... He is loving me and keeping His promises just like He always says He will and always does. Yes... Jesus Is My Hero... And I have much to be thankful for... most of which is that I have no more need to search for someone to trust completely with my life and with my future. He holds it in His hands. His steady, perfect and loving hands.