Silvia's Faith Journey- Part 11
Hi everyone! Today is about forgiveness and how God met me where I was at to move me forward. Stubborn may be a word that could have been used to describe me in the early days… but let’s be real, it can probably still be used to describe me at some points today. God is persistent not only in His pursuit of us, but also what He calls us to do. Enjoy!
You would think that God would have eased up after I surrendered, but apparently it was full steam ahead once He had my attention. At the beginning of the summer, God put it on my heart to forgive the drunk driver that killed Jared. I thought “Wonderful idea!” about ZERO times. Instead, I pushed back pridefully and countered with, “I don’t hate him, so why do I need to forgive him?”
The real issue was that I wanted a happier ending. I wanted the drunk driver to somehow demonstrate that he was a better person, but I had not heard anything to suggest that. What I had learned, through a woman that worked with M.A.D.D., was that he had been released early from the minimum-security prison, moved back with his parents, and was doing nothing. I checked out his Facebook page and from the limited things I could see it did not appear as if he had turned over any kind of new leaf. Even worse for me, he never took advantage of Al’s (Jared’s dad) heartfelt offer to do speaking engagements around the country to help kids understand the full ramification of drunk driving.
Deep down I knew that forgiveness was freely given, but I wanted him to earn it. Forgiveness came with no strings attached, and I was unwilling to cut those strings.
But God kept calling me to do it. After I surrendered to Jesus that summer, I decided it was time to try to trust what God was prompting me to do. It was nothing fancy. I simply said out loud, “I forgive you.” The drunk driver was not even there, but I do not think that was the point. I had uttered the words and to me it was final. I could not take the words back; I had forgiven him. Instead of feeling at peace, I felt very uncomfortable. What had I done? I felt like I had let go of something, but what was it? After a few moments I realized what it was. Somewhere, deep down, I was reserving the right to hate him if I wanted to and now, with forgiveness, that option was gone.
The revelation of the bitterness that forgiveness helped me to let go of was freeing. A weight I did not even know I carried was released and I finally felt peace. I tried messaging the drunk driver several times through Facebook. Now, I’m not talking about a few beautiful, impactful, and well-constructed sentences, but rather I barfed out huge paragraphs about how God loved him and how in Jesus there was forgiveness and redemption. I try to tell myself that it wasn’t weird, but who are we kidding? It was totally weird. I might as well have stood outside his front door holding a John 3:16 sign. Oh well! I am not sure he ever saw any of my messages, but I hope one day he has healing through Christ.
By this time, I knew I was beginning to respond to how God was moving in my life and that I was truly surrendered, so I decided it was time to do something big. Tell my mom. It may sound silly, but I wanted to make sure my faith in the Lord was real before I told her. My mom had been praying for me all those years. She was the only thing that tethered me to God when I had turned my back on Him. Mom never stopped believing that all her children would one day return to Christ.
So here it was, the big moment! I called her up on the phone and with great enthusiasm told her, “Mommy, I want to tell you something. I finally surrendered my life to Christ!” Cue parade, confetti, and trumpets! Well, that was what I was expecting. What I got instead was my mom saying in a happy but matter-of-fact way, “I knew you would one day. I knew God would bring you back.” Later, my aunt told me that my mom was very excited, but I still find it hilarious how my mom downplayed it with me to display her confidence in God.
A few weeks later I would have the opportunity to see my mom in person. My car was breaking down and my mom offered to give me her old car and she would buy a newer one. She thought it would be easier for me to have it shipped out to me, but I wanted to thank her in person. I flew out to see her and we were able to spend valuable time together. How precious I would not know until later.
Since my mom thought about everything, she had taken the car to her mechanic, Abdel, for a tune up. She wanted to make sure it was in the best shape before I drove it home. I remember walking with my mom to Abdel’s auto shop that was only a few blocks away. It was a sunny day, and my mom had this little hat on to shade herself from the sun. I said, “Mommy, you look so cute.” and she said in a cute, mischievous voice, “I know!” We laughed so hard after that. When we got to Abdel’s shop, mom was talking to him for a while. His mom had just passed away and he was going to have to fly back to the Middle East to go to her funeral. I remember the empathy she extended to him, and I could tell that he appreciated it. He knew that she genuinely cared. Mom took the time to extend kindness to all the people God put in her path.
I always loved spending time with my mom, but this time was special in the sense that I could ask her questions about God. For the first time I was curious, and I wanted to learn from someone that I not only viewed as my mom but also a woman that had showed me time and again that she had great faith. Parents, never lose hope that you have a great impact even when your children wander.
When I returned home, I sought to deepen my relationship with God and decided to get more plugged into the church community. I began serving and joined a church disciple group that I chose based on the group description that stated that they were “walking in obedience” to the Lord. Obedience? Something in my heart resisted that word, so I knew that this was where I needed to go to challenge myself.
The first day of my disciple group I did not know what to expect. If I was supposed to be a Bible scholar that would be a problem. Despite my uncertainty, I grabbed my Bible and headed over to the house where the group was being held. It was a mixed group of men and women that were very welcoming. At one point, the leader asked each person to read a specific verse of scripture. In my nervousness, I asked if it was okay that I was using my Bible since it was a NIV instead of the ESV version that the church used. Immediately, the guy sitting next to me told me, “It’s okay if you are a virgin. I mean version… if your version is different.” Ummmmm, super awkward. Ha ha. But other than that first day hiccup, it was a great group that helped me deepen my relationship with Christ.
In the fall, only a few months after I had surrendered, I began to sense God calling me to go on a short-term mission trip to Uganda. I resisted at first. I remember I was in my living room watching TV when once again that feeling that I was supposed to go to Uganda popped up. This again? Well, let’s put my mind at rest about this once and for all. I thought, “God if You REALLY wanted me to go to Africa, You would give me a sign.” No way that is going to happen. Suddenly, I saw for the first and only time, a commercial for a movie about a girl from Africa. I was quick to respond with a loophole and thought to myself, “Well, God if You really wanted me to go, this would be about someone in Uganda.” Genius. Don’t ask me why I thought I was a step ahead of God. I confidently went to look up the movie, ready to be absolved of this calling. The main character was from, you got it, Uganda. Uh oh. Okay God. I get it.
I stared at the church’s website page about the Uganda mission trip that was to occur soon, but for some reason I never clicked the link to find out more. Instead, I spoke to my friend, Lili, about how I felt God was calling me to go on a short-term mission trip to Uganda. Lili was a wonderful social butterfly and, not surprisingly, told me that she knew the woman that headed missions at the church and would introduce me to her that evening. There was a special event going on at our church where they invited pastors from different churches to speak as a way of bringing revival to our community. More on that later.
That night Lili and I attended the Saturday event at church. Afterward, she introduced me to Mandy, the woman in charge of missions. I expressed to Mandy that I felt like God was calling me to Uganda. She then told me that the Uganda team was meeting the next day at the coffee shop nearby, and I could attend that to get more insights about the trip. Mandy also informed me that if I clicked on the link to get information about the trip online, it would tell me that the trip was closed, but not to worry because I could still go. Later, I reflected on how I had never been moved to click the link before I talked to Mandy. Had I done so, I would have seen the word “closed” and prematurely assumed that there was no way to attend. It would have been over in my mind.
The next day I went to the mission trip meeting, committed to God’s calling, and officially signed up. I was a last-minute addition as normally you sign up months in advance, for fellowship and fundraising purposes, but I skated in with about a month left before the trip. I texted my mom to let her know that I was going on my first mission trip. I knew she would be excited for me. She, herself, was planning on going on a short-term mission trip to Peru with her church. When she did not reply to my text, I began to worry but figured that it was because she had said she was feeling under the weather. Mom must be resting.
A couple of days later I would get a call while I was working in the lab. A male voice on the phone began to identify himself as a police officer from Texas, and my world was about to come crashing down.