Do you remember your first love? The way they made you feel? That flutter when you whisper their name… when your eyes meet and quickly break away.
I had that feeling again, but not in the romantic sense.
Do you remember your first encounter with Christ? When you first felt Him near? Not like some guy you read about in a book, but really felt His presence…
It was the summer of 2003; the first time I went to Twentyfour7. I was standing on the right side of the stage, in the back of the group that were all pressed up against the small stage.
“What are they doing?” I asked myself? This was the first time I had ever experienced a real worship experience. I grew up in a small church where we would stand and sing hymns, but it didn’t feel anything like this. Nowhere near it.
And then I felt it… The Holy Spirit rushed through me as the band played and the crowd sang at the top of their lungs… “He is Mighty to SAVE!” Tears flooded my eyes.
“DO. NOT. CRY!”
Too late… they’ve already seen me wiping the snot from my face. I’m caught.
To this day, I cannot hear, play or whistle that song without evoking those feelings. But somewhere along the line, it got lost. Somewhere in my walk I decided that I was fed up with God’s timing, that He was taking too long to make things work out for me. I saw everyone around me being so blessed. Was this because of my past? Was my sin worse than anyone else’s? I became bitter. I went through the motions. I lost hope.
It got dark.
Things really started falling apart. All of the things that I had heard about people falling away from the protection of God were true. I knew what I needed to do but I refused to do it. By the time I finally decided to get things to turn around, it was hard. It was really hard. I looked for a church, I tried going back to my old one but that season ended long before I left.
I finally found a church that seemed like a good fit but never found my place. I tithed and showed up but beyond that, it was hard finding where I was supposed to be. I was on my way to that church one day and I went to get coffee and accidentally stopped at a different church.
This is where things got strange.
Everyone was so familiar. I know I’ve talked about this before, but I want you to know where I was… I want you to see what God has done.
After a few months of going to this church, I still don’t know exactly what to do or where to go, but I know this is where I am supposed to be. Things are being confirmed through other people.
If you didn’t know, I had surgery last month on my left elbow and right hand. I haven’t been able to properly play the guitar for a few years and it has sucked. I think having the first surgery 6 years ago really messed me up. Mostly emotionally. I had been struggling for a couple years to play and there was this expectation that I would just be healed or shut up and just play.
“Stop being so dramatic, Kelsie.”
That crushed me. At the time I was playing the guitar 20-40 hours a week on top of a 40 hour work week. I was expected to know all of these songs and it was hard. I doubted that I was supposed to even be on the worship team. I wanted to quit every day… but I wanted to play. I knew deep down that this is what I was called to do.
I can finally play again. My right hand still hurts a bit and I’m re-training my left pinkie finger to move right, but ya’all… I can play again. And… I WANT to. I have had to just sit there and stare at a wall of guitars and not play them. I’d take one down and strum a bit but it wasn’t long before the pain was too much.
As I write this, my hand hurts from cracking a bunch of pecans the other day. Then I cut up a bunch of pears and made a pear pie with pecan streusel. I hope it doesn’t suck. We’re having family dinner for Thanksgiving at work.
I’m sorry this is allover the place. I haven’t been writing much lately and I just got a notification from WordPress.com that I have had this blog for 10 years. I should be more diligent because looking back over the past 10 years has been awesome.