I couldn't remember which question she asked as soon as I woke up.
Either way, it troubled me.
Oswald Chambers asks, "Has there been a point in your life which you now mark as your last day? Is there a place in your life to which you go back in memory with humility and overwhelming gratitude, so that you can honestly proclaim, 'Yes, it was then, at my 'white funeral,’ that I made an agreement with God.'"
My last day came in 1998. I had given my life to Christ in our basement on Vine Street at the age of five, and I earnestly believe that I was filled with the Holy Spirit at that time. I do not believe that I began the path to sanctification until 1998, one day in my bedroom in Alabama. The details are not important, but it happened. *Upon further thought, that's a silly thing to say. Of course, I was on the path to sanctification. I don't think I understood its importance until that day in Alabama.
Shortly thereafter, God proved his love to me by opening my eyes (literally) to a spiritual realm beyond my comprehension...and protecting me from it.
Chambers goes on to write,
When we talk about the call of God, we often forget the most important thing, namely, the nature of Him who calls [...] The call is the expression of the nature of the One who calls, and we can only recognize the call if that same nature is in us. The call of God is the expression of God’s nature, not ours. God providentially weaves the threads of His call through our lives, and only we can distinguish them. It is the threading of God’s voice directly to us over a certain concern, and it is useless to seek another person’s opinion of it.
The call of God is not a reflection of my nature; my personal desires and temperament are of no consideration. As long as I dwell on my own qualities and traits and think about what I am suited for, I will never hear the call of God. [...] The majority of us cannot hear anything but ourselves. And we cannot hear anything God says. But to be brought to the place where we can hear the call of God is to be profoundly changed.
I can see where God has woven the threads of His call through my life from the age of five, to seventeen, to my marriage at 23, and into the growth He has insisted upon in the last eight months as I prepare for my baby.
Over the past year, I've been continually asking..."Who am I in Christ?"
The bottom line? If you ask, God will answer you. It hurts, and it sucks, and it's intensely emotional, but it seems to be satisfying, comforting and RIGHT...I think. I'll let you know.