I was pretty sure that God loved the world. I read that in the Bible and people told me that God loved people. I started to believe it.
Kind of.
I was certain that God would love the murderers, the adulterers, you know, the "big" sinners, but there was no way God could love me. If God could read hearts, which I knew He did, He would know how dirty, selfish, and broken I was. He would see my failures, my pride, my raw sin.
I talked a pretty good talk. I loved telling people how much God loved them, totally believing in my heart that there was no way that He could love me.
My mind completely believed this, which lead to me feeling like God didn't love me. Soon enough, I began acting on it. I hid my heart from God, I didn't want Him to know where I was struggling. This sent me into a tail spin of depression and self mutilation, both physically and mentally. If God didn't love me, I certainly wasn't going to love myself. My value and worth plummeted.
By the grace of God, I was introduced to Brennan Manning through his book "The Ragamuffin Gospel." God used this book to shape my identity in Jesus. I learned that God knew my heart, and it was ok. He knew my brokenness....in fact, it was because of my brokenness that He came to die on the cross.
An excerpt from the book:
"This book is not for the super spiritual.
It is not for muscular Christians who have made John Wayne and not Jesus their hero.
It is not for academicians who would imprison Jesus in the ivory tower of exegesis.
It is not for noisy, feel-good folks who manipulate Christian into a naked appeal to emotion.
It is not for hooded mystics who want magic in their religion.
It is not for Allelulia Christians who live only on the mountaintop and have never visited the valley of desolation.
It is not for the fearless and tearless.
It is not for red-hot zealots who boast with the rich young ruler of the gospels: 'All of these commandments I have kept from my youth.'
It is not for the complacent, hoisting over their shoulder a tote-bag of honors, diplomas, and good works actually believing they have it made.
It is not for legalists who would rather surrender control of their souls to rules than run the risk of living in union with Jesus.
If anyone is still reading along, The Ragamuffin Gospel was written for the bedraggled, beat-up, and burnt-out.
It is for the sorely burdened who are still shifting the heavy suitcase from one hand to the other.
It is for the wobbly and weak-kneed who know that they don't have it altogether and are too proud to accept the handout of amazing grace.
It is for inconsistent, unsteady disciples whose cheese is falling off their cracker.
It is for the poor, weak, sinful men and women with heriditary faults and limited talents.
It is for earthen vessels who shuffle along on feet of clay.
It is for the bent and the bruised who feel that their lives are a grave disappointment to God.
It is for smart people who know they are stupid and honest scalawags. "
Ah. Finally a book about me. Shoot. A book about me. How did he know so much about my life? When I sat in the office of the youth pastor of the church I grew up in, and he made me read the above excerpt, I thought that both he, and Brennan Manning have been reading my journal. How did they know?
And so began a beautiful journey. A journey where I knew it was ok to be vulnerable with God. Much of my intimacy with Jesus today looks like today is because of the words penned by Brennan Manning. A journey that included me throwing some of Brennan;s books against the wall, when they may have spoke too much truth. A journey that was tear-stained and real. A journey of freedom.
Today, the world lost Brennan. He is now in the arms of His Savior. I am forever grateful for his influence in my life, and for those who encouraged me to push through the harsh words of his.
