Have you ever felt so loved and humbled that you actually felt a weight on your chest? Like your heart is literally about to burst because its so full?
My childhood was completely MAGICAL because of the love I received from my grandparents. I started this blog, not because I think my life is amusing or that you want to read all about my adventures with Rufus and Jim, but because I missed my grandparents' love. I ached for a way to feel it again and share that love with others.
Last week I heard Francis Chan speak at the Tulsa Soul Winning Workshop. To an audience of at least 60% "gray hairs," he said, "Young people are dying to be lead by older people who are living faithfully." He described an older man who supported him when he started a church in San Francisco. Chan said he was so humbled that this man would actually show up every Sunday. Floored that this man who he respected prayed for him daily.
I understood him completely. He made me think of the mentors who have shared their lives with me and have invested in my salvation.
Every time I ended a phone call with my grandma, she said, "I love you, and I think about you every day."
Heavy, full-heart feeling.
She also said things in her Oklahoma accent like, "Chelsi-baby, you show them how to live." She communicated her faith in me to do great things for God.
Grandpa made me believe I could go to the moon, win a gold medal in Olympic gymnastics, and write an award winning novel. (Really. Even though I tripped walking to the kitchen and back to refill my bowl of creamed corn, TJ Golson had me convinced I was destined to be the next Shannon Miller.)
|The happiest girl in the world. Hanging out in Grandpa's boots.|
But Grandma made me believe I was bound for something even greater: sharing the heart crushing, life-changing love of Jesus.
During the past year, I've felt a strong urge to do something more: to tangibly serve the God who has blessed me beyond reason. But whenever I felt pulled in a certain direction, big loud sirens of doubt sounded in my head. "You are NOT capable of this." "They will see right through you." "If you open up your life to those people, a whole world of problems will follow." "Be smart. Protect yourself."
Over breakfast on a recent Saturday morning, a man named Randy, who I consider to be one of the wisest people on the planet and who helped shaped my faith in a very profound way, told me he prays for my husband and me. He took several hours out of his very busy life to spend with us, and communicate how much he cares.
Jim cautiously asked me why I was in tears as we drove away that day. I told him (or at least I tried to tell him through heaving sobs) that I felt humbled. Invested in. Unworthy.
Heavy, full-heart feeling. Loved.
|Our wedding day. My grandma in the lower left. Randy standing next to us.|
I know the truth. I'm not worthy of this love.
Really. I'm a jerk. (I've snapped at my husband twice while writing this post... about love.)
Even more so, I'm not worthy of the love of God, but he gives it to me anyway.
But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. -Romans 5:8
God has used faithful mentors like my grandparents and Randy to pour out his love on me at times when I've felt the least deserving of it.
This Easter, I'm feeling heavy, full-heart weighed down with the love of Jesus. He loves me. He loves YOU. No matter how unfit you believe you are.