I: The follower

I started following Christ early in life. There was no dramatic conversion story for me--no point at which I confronted my sinful nature and saw Christ as a way to overcome all of the darkness in my life.

I was 5, surrounded by other children and loving caregivers at vacation Bible school and when the invitation came to accept Christ as my lasting savior, my arm shot up reflexively.

I remember sitting on the floor of a 1980s-era classroom, probably on a rectangle of pile carpet with my eyes squeezed shut during prayer, feeling the warmth of belonging to something big, warm and friendly. I envisioned Jesus in those pictures where he's bathed in yellow light, clothed in billowy white cotton, gathering fuzzy lambs to his side.

I was a lamb. I wanted to be gathered close to him. I repeated the words of the invitation for Christ to dwell in my heart and then I was saved.

Years passed. I memorized scripture. The telling and retelling of Bible stories in Sunday school and subsequent vacation Bible schools swept me into a world of Old Testament heroes and villains, a God who intervened in dramatic and sometimes catastrophic ways and an atoning savior who came and made it all right.

By high school, my loving church family had provided a firm foundation in the evangelical Christian faith on which I could begin to build an adult understanding of the world. Then, the world started to chip away at that very foundation, right beneath my feet.

During the next 10 years I began to face real moral questions for which I had to come up with my own answers either based on my perception of what God wanted me to do, or on what I thought was right in spite of my Biblical upbringing.

I had to make my own calls about obeying my parents or following my friends. I grappled with sexuality and sorting out what my flesh desired and what my heart needed. These were my choices now, and the answers didn't come clearly from the same Jesus who called me to his side when I was 5.

That same church that loved me as a child, seemed to be closing in on me now with unspoken condemnation for the immoral feelings I was having and for the doubts I harbored about whether Jesus really loved me through this confusing time.

It came to a head one communion Sunday when I was 17 and I knew I couldn't accept Christ's flesh and blood with a right heart. I didn't want to cheapen the experience of such a holy act when I didn't feel deserving of it. As they passed the bread and juice, I ran from the sanctuary in tears.

Then came college at a secular university. I learned about philosophy, world religions and art--beautiful and interesting things made by the people of a fallen world. I began to see good in ungodly things and it didn't seem so bad.

All the while I hung on loosely to Christ. I needed him to be a father to me after I left the security of my parents' home. I needed his rescuing when I made messes in my life. I needed a moral code to inspire my choices after college. I met and fell in love with a boy who had the same ideas about needing Christ and we found a new church--together. We got married there and took our first communion together as one. I felt close to God again.

Then, Sept. 11, 2001 happened and it catapulted me into another period of doubt. I became uncomfortable believing in a loving God who is intimately involved in the lives of His people, when it seemed He so clearly had left us unprotected from our adversaries.

I started feeling guilty about my wavering faith and that made things worse. Sometime around then, I found Genesis 32:24--a passage that tells about how Jacob physically wrestled with God. I saw in that account, that God wants us to wrestle with Him. He wants us to have faith in Him, but above all He desires a relationship with us. That means if we're struggling, He wants us to come to Him with our struggles. He wants us to wrestle with Him. That concept was new to me and it was freeing.

Now, as I teach my own children about what a life as Christ-followers can offer them, I don't feel like I have to know all of the answers to their theological questions. I'm still looking for them myself. I know it's important to be asking them. It's vital to our ability to feel peace in our souls and ultimately to be delivered from the pain that comes along with being human.

Certainly my walk with Christ wouldn't have come with so many stumbling blocks had I come to know him as an adult, but that's not how it happened for me. I had a long time to grow into my relationship with Him. Apparently need a lot of time for wrestling.

From where I stand today, I don't think this world has anything that can shake me lose from Christ's side. I can't help but return to Him when I've gone astray and I hear Him calling my name. I love Him deeply. This be I: A lamb of God.