What Happened?

I wrote this in the fall of 2017

What happened?”

That is the question I keep getting asked and honestly, my answer changes daily.  I guess the short answer is, “I’m human.”  However, with every short answer there is a long answer so here goes…

If you would have asked me two years ago what I thought my spiritual gift was, my reply would have been, faith.  I had faith that the Missionary Baptist Church was the only true church and as a member in good standing that meant I was a part of the Bride of Christ.  I had faith that whatever the MBC taught as doctrine was true for no other reason than they said so and I respected them.  Faith is believing in the unseen and since I never took the time to back up doctrine with the Bible, to me it was unseen.  I tell you I had so much faith in the church, I was it’s number one fan!!!  There was nothing that would ever come between me and the MBC… until there was.

I know I am the self fulfilling prophecy… “Don’t ever move away from Polk County or you will “turn modern””.  “Separate yourself from Christians who are not in the MBC or you will “turn modern””.  “Don’t read anything from anyone about Christianity that isn’t a part of the King James version of the Bible or you will “turn modern””.  I was so sick of hearing those statements.  I just couldn’t see why nobody seemed to have faith in me.  I am a 35 year old adult who has been saved for almost 20 years and I have been active in the church for all 20 years.  Why didn’t people think that I could actually have a close enough relationship with God to be able to discern the Spirit?  So, I tiptoed into the water.  I started attending a multi-denominational Bible study.  I didn’t jump in with a whole heart even though what they had to offer me my soul had been STARVING for.  I was still blind; my eyes were covered, my ears were closed, my heart was hardened.  I would park in the back each week so that nobody would recognize the bumper sticker on my van parked in the lot.  What I experienced those first few months at BSF was certainly intriguing but since I only tiptoed into the water my heart wasn’t immersed and it’s hard to feed your toes.

Later that spring, things had become unbearable at Jason’s job and while I was listening to a sermon one Sunday night at church God laid it heavy on my heart that His timing is perfect and He wanted us to move.  I should have been terrified as moving away is pretty much a MBC death sentence.  The church’s initial thought is, “2 hours is a long way to drive each week for church, eventually you will get tired and fall away or “turn modern””.  I had such a peace over the whole process though.  Our house sold in a couple days for more than we asked, we found an amazing new home in Columbia, and in fact there was a newly formed MBC in town.  Surely God was calling us to Columbia to help grow this small church.  Jason and I were both born and bred, multi-generational Missionary Baptists with tons of church experience; we would be a great fit. That first summer in Columbia I was certain I had it all figured out.  God however had a much different purpose for bringing us to Columbia.  It was like he drew a line at the doorway and he pulled me through that door by my partially fed toes until eventually my heart crossed the line.  The problem was in this picture my head is the last thing out the door and that head of mine is stubborn.

Fall came and I’m not exactly sure how I ended up signing up for BSF in Columbia but one September morning I found myself walking through the door.  I knew instantly something was different.  Maybe it was just the simple fact that I could park anywhere I wanted without worrying who would see but I jumped in this time and boy did my heart EAT!!!  I pushed aside my old habits of Bible study in that when I had read I would feed on anything that agreed with the doctrine I learned as a child and if it didn’t go along with that then, it just must not be time for to understand that yet.  I developed a new method in just taking God at His Word.  I gobbled up every plate of that Word and as people do when they eat, I GREW!  I felt like one of those plants you get from the nursery that is in the tiny container of soil and you take the container off and all the roots and bulging up at the bottom.  God planted me in a field and there was nothing to keep me contained.

Jason has never fit the Missionary Baptist mold.  That is hard to understand considering his family.  He just has a love for all people that nobody understands.  I however grew nicely into my Missionary Baptist mold and after high school I sought out to find a nice, strong Missionary Baptist boy.  Since Jason’s dad was a respected MB preacher I figured he would be the perfect candidate.  We got married right away and I quickly learned I was wrong.  I had spent 14 years trying to change my husband.  I fought with him.  I fought with God!  I didn’t understand why God wouldn’t just make him a strong Missionary Baptist that would serve Him the way he was supposed to.  The first fall after moving to Columbia I was having that same fight with God and it was like God slapped me across the face and point blank told me, “It’s not him that needs to change... It’s you!”  I had never truly considered I was the one that was wrong.  I had thought I had but I hadn’t.  I grew up being told over and over and over and over just how right I was.  I was right and everyone else is wrong, lost, deceived…

This is where I get to the point…what happened…  I learned a lot that fall.  I read and prayed and grew daily.  I asked God to give me answers and He did.  I discovered that my problem was I had built my spiritual foundation on the Missionary Baptist Church, not Jesus like I thought I had.  It is the hardest thing I have ever had to do but I’m starting over and with that I have had to step away from some teachings and people for whom I hold the uttermost respect.  That doesn’t mean that I think they are doing anything wrong, I just discovered that I had and GRACIOUSLY God has given me a second chance to get it right.