Somewhere in the Middle

I have been a Christian for 17 years today. I repeated a prayer in a Sunday School classroom when I was 9 years old because I thought it was something I was supposed to do. When I was 12 years old (almost 13) my mother was very ill and emergently hospitalized due to a gangrenous gall bladder and sepsis. Although I didn't realize it at the time (medical school does give you a little insight), in retrospect, she was likely close to death. This was significant to me because it was probably the first time that someone so close to me was so sick. It was the first time I really thought about death for longer than 5 minutes. All this happened right before my first church trip with the youth group (Centrifuge in Panama City, Fl). From her hospital bed, she insisted that my sister and I go, and because I was selfish and a child, I did. During that trip my preacher's daughter (the one with scoliosis who was home-schooled and didn't really have a talent so she taught herself sign language so she could do "interpretive signing" set to music for sunday morning specials) got saved.

This, oddly enough, started a series of events in our youth group which resulted in a huge revival in our church. Many of the youth got saved that summer. God began dealing with me about the sincerity (or lack thereof) of my own salvation. I struggled with this for a couple of months---through multiple youth events, sermons, sunday school classes, and an entire week-long revival. The revival ended on a Sunday and I was secretely relieved that I could get a reprive from the doubting and heaviness I was feeling. There's an old song called "Saved to the Uttermost" that the evangelist's wife sang....it goes something like "i'm saved to the uttermost/and i know that i am/washed in the blood of the precious lamb/through the father/through the son/through the holy ghost/i'm saved to the uttermost..." The words of that kept running through my mind because deep down, I knew I couldn't sing that with an honest heart. The next morning (September 10,1990), God spoke to me in His unmistakable voice while I was waiting my turn at bat in Mr. Doughty's 8th grade PE class. I don't remember exactly what was said, only the absolute certainty that I, DeSha, was a sinner, not just someone who committed sins, and I was going straight to hell with my sunday school ribbons in my back pocket. I immediately did the only thing I knew to do.......I faked an illness (yet another sin...see, it never stops). My teacher let me go to the office because he said I didn't look so good. (I guess confrontation with your own mortality can make you look a little pale.)

My precious mother came and picked me up from school--no questions asked--and checked me out. She needed to go by the bank and grocery store if it was okay with me and I felt like it. I told her sure, secretely praying that the rapture would not occur during this time period. When we got home, she asked me if I was okay, and I just blurted out (in between sobs) that I was lost and going to hell.... She, in only the way a mother could (1.) hid her surprise (2.) calmly prayed that God would give me insight (3.) called our pastor and brought me right over to our church to talk with him. He met us in the sanctuary, and let me tell him what was going on. He told me that he could tell something had been on my mind. He prayed for me, and then, in the first pew on the right side opposite the stained glass window with the little crack, I prayed a few simple, broken sentences that changed my life and sealed my fate. I remember praying, "God, I'm a sinner. I need you. Please save me." Afterwards, I told someone that I felt like the weight of a ton of bricks had been lifted off my chest. In one moment that I could never begin to fathom, I know I knew faith, I knew humility, I knew surrender, I knew unconditional love, and I knew Him.

Every year on this day, I used to reflect on my Christian walk---do a self-evaluation of where I was at spiritually. The past few years I've quit doing this. There isn't a particular reason why, other than I was probably either on call or post-call or tired or had a bad day or ashamed of something I'd done or had some other convenient excuse. I feel like my prayer life and relationship with God (and consequently, others) has suffered because of this. Sometimes I feel like I have a bad case of spiritual melancholy. It makes me sad that I know I'm not where I should be. It makes me sad that I'm not sad at times about the things that break God's heart. And it makes me sad that I'm not sad enough to change this in my life.

I kinda had a crusty day at work, and to compensate for this I did something extremely spiritual.....I went for a non-aerobic-activity-walk and then went to Target. I bought the knew Casting Crowns CD and on the way home heard this song, "Somewhere In the Middle":

"Somewhere between the hot and the cold/Somewhere between the new and the old/Somewhere between who I am and who I used to be/Somewhere in the middle, You'll find me/Somewhere between the wrong and the right/Somewhere between the darkness and the light/Somewhere between who I was and who You're making me/Somewhere in the middle, You'll find me/Just how close can I get, Lord, to my surrender without losing all control/

Fearless warriors in a picket fence, reckless abandon wrapped in common sense/deep water faith in the shallow end and we are caught in the middle/With eyes wide open to the differences, the God we want and the God who is/But will we trade our dreams for his or are we caught in the middle/Are we caught in the middle?

Somewhere between my heart and my hands/Somewhere between my faith and my plans/Somewhere between the safety of the boat and the crashing waves/Somewhere between a whisper and a roar/Somewhere between the altar and the door/Somewhere between contented peace and always wanting more/Somewhere in the middle You'll find me/just how close can I get, Lord, to my surrender without losing all control/Lord, I feel You in this place and I know You're by my side/Loving me even on these nights when I'm caught in the middle."

I listened to it twice in the car on the way home and realized :

(1) That I'm not the only one who's ever experienced this. (And therefore not totally abnormal)
(2) That God, being, well, God, already knows this about me, and loves me through even the thirsty seasons of my life.
(3) That we are invited to ponder this safe in the restful arms of the Great Shephard---not stranded in the finite pastures of our own reasoning. What a relief.

How humbling. How extragavant. And how fitting to let the Author of Salvation be the Restorer of it's Joy (the best "free gift with purchase" ever). I suddenly feel much better. :)