It was one of the last warm summer Sundays before the leaves began to fall and the days became cooler. I was a brand new college student, free to make my own decisions and choose my own path. But there were so many choices and I was overwhelmed by it all.
I had become a Christian the summer after everything changed. It was the year I stepped out of childhood and began to question it all. Just two months earlier, our circle of friends had said goodbye forever to one of our own. A car accident took both her life and our innocence.
It was also the year our family doctor looked at my mom with concern written in his eyes and told her to seek a specialist. It was just a hunch, but the cardiologist confirmed it. We waited, prescriptions and restrictions in hand, for my body to grow enough that surgery would be most effective.
Physically I grew weaker...and spiritually I grew weaker. I stepped into the school counselor's office more often than I can count, but still the doubts and questions crowded my thoughts. None of it - the pain, the heart ache, the loss, the suffering - made sense.
And then, through the eyes of a fictional character, I began to see what I was missing. My heart spoke what my soul cried that day: I needed Jesus.
Five years later, my thoughts were crowded with more doubts and questions. I wanted to understand, to know Him more. I would open the pages of His words day after day, but there was still so much I needed to learn.
My soul was hungry for more Truth, but where could I find it? I opened up the yellow pages to a heading that read "Churches" and my head began to spin at the multitude of choices. And how was one denomination different than the next?
A friend said "Baptist", but still there were so many to choose from. Without a car of my own, I knew I'd be walking, so I picked the one I thought was closest. I attended that church service the week before, but I wasn't quite home yet. The sweet lady who offered me a ride back to campus suggested another church, much closer to campus with a ministry for college students.
So, that morning, dressed for church, bible in one hand and directions in the other, I began to walk. Confused by roads still unfamiliar to me and feeling so very alone, I began to pray.
Where am I going? I don't even understand these directions and I have no idea where I am.
I know where you are, dear one. Just follow me.
But what am I doing? This is silly. I don't know anyone and I have no idea what a Baptist church even is.
I know what you're doing, dear one. Just follow me.
I trust you, Lord. But I'm scared. I don't do things like this. I'm the one who plays it safe and doesn't take risks.
I know you and I know your fears, dear one. Just follow me.
And so, I followed.
God blessed my obedience that day with a Pastor who boldly preaches truth Sunday after Sunday, friends who challenge and encourage me in my walk with Him, and a church family who has loved and cared for me through many storms.
And still I follow.
Fingers hovering over the keyboard, cursor blinking, I begin to type. Words flow out of my heart, words He has placed there of a story He has written for me.
I don't know what I'm doing and it terrifies me. But He knows.
And so, I will follow.


























