Hi All,
The following is something I wrote a while ago, trying to express in words, what it was like to meet Jesus for the first time. It is my honest personal testimony. It is the best I can do to try to describe my experience. I thought that it might help you to understand where I'm coming from, since I'm always talking about being "born again" and "knowing Him personally". And I sincerely, sincerely wish that all of you would experience what I have. God is love.
Love,
Lori
Meeting Jesus
I can’t remember exactly when it was that I met Jesus for the first time. I know that my spiritual journey had been a long one up to that point, going on for years…most of my life…trying to figure things out using the world I had around me…my life experience…science…emotions…logic…religion. Eventually, I had asked to be shown…I wanted the truth…sincerely…and had asked for it…if it was there to be shown. And it was shown to me…through experiences in my life…to the point where the idea of mere coincidence was out the window, and my doubt as to His existence was gone. Up to that time though, it had consisted of me seeing and experiencing things in life, from a simply analytical standpoint, and having enough faith from that to pray to Him for salvation and truth and understanding. With that prayer, truth was shown to me through life experience, physical and mental and emotional experience, and the understanding that came with that…and my faith grew and grew. I was being humbled, and humbled, and humbled…to the truth. At that point I was saved…and I had faith…and I had some understanding of some truth…and I knew where that came from…if for no other reason than that I had asked it of a very specific source…but I did not have a personal relationship with Jesus. I didn’t even know what that was…or that it was even possible. I knew that He was manipulating my life and teaching me things…but it seemed from afar. I didn’t feel Him…I didn’t hear Him…I didn’t sense Him…it was all very “worldly” and analytical.
It bothers me now that I can’t remember what exactly brought on the experience I had when I met Jesus for the first time. I do know though, that I had prayed for that “personal” relationship…to actually know Him…to feel Him…as I know that He only comes when invited. I do remember what it was like though…and I’ve spent a lot of time since then trying to find the words that would adequately describe the experience. Well, there are none…but the following analogies and description are as close as I can come.
I was alone in prayer and in my bedroom and I heard Him speak to me. It was not audible…it was in my head. It was my inner voice…but it wasn’t me who was talking. It was like when I talk to myself in my mind…but it wasn’t me who was talking…and I knew that like I knew that there was a nose on my face. It was not my thought…they were not my words…it wasn’t my tone, or the inflection that I would use even…and what He said to me was…that He loved me. That He loved me and He always had and He always would. He actually said that He loved me over and over and over again. It was as if He knew that I didn't "get it", and so He kept repeating it. He said that He had been there for me…and with me…all along…my whole life…but that I never acknowledged Him…I never looked at Him…or to Him…and He had been waiting for me to for so long. And it wasn’t just the words either…they were accompanied by a presence…His presence. I couldn’t see him with my eyes…or hear Him with my ears…or reach out and touch Him with my hands…I couldn’t smell Him either. It was like I had a sixth sense all of a sudden…one that I was totally unfamiliar with and didn’t understand. I still have no way of describing it other than to say that it’s a “knowing”. His words and His presence brought about an extreme emotional response from me…I cried and cried. I would compare the emotion to what you would experience if you were reunited with a long lost parent maybe…only many times more intense…it’s the most intense and personal bond that I’ve ever felt…I mean, He knows everything…and I mean everything about you…every deed…every thought…every weakness…everything about you since conception….even more than you do about your own self…and then and yet…He loves you…and He loves you unconditionally…now think about that for a minute…yea, the closest thing you could compare it to would be a parent…but the closest parental relationship in the world doesn’t come close to that. I remember feeling as if I had known Him a long, long time ago…so long ago that I couldn’t remember what it was like to be with Him or to know Him…but that I definitely had. And it was bitter-sweet…loving reunions always are…you are so sad and remorseful because of the time lost between you…and yet at the same time so relieved that you have found each other in that moment and that the separation is finally over…and then joyful and thankful for the time together that is to come.
You know, I had always thought it strange, when watching those stupid tv talk shows with their “long lost relative” reunions, how people got so emotional about it all. I never understood what the big emotional deal was about meeting someone, that you didn’t know, for the first time. I mean so what that you shared a little dna? What was the big deal? You hadn’t shared anything else. You hadn’t spent any time together, shared any experiences, or had any knowledge of each other at all, so why all of the emotion? I just didn’t get it. But when I met Jesus for the first time, it became clear to me, that it wasn’t about the time spent, or the experience shared, or the knowledge of the other that was important…it was about who that person is to you. Who is this? This is my Father. And it wasn’t even something that I intellectualized at the time, but something that I felt deep inside of me…a bond that was felt to the very core of my soul. And my soul cried out in comfort and relief.
It was strange because at that point…and looking back on my life…it felt like I knew He had been there all along…right there beside me…but for some reason I had forgotten that He was…it was very strange. It reminds me of a most disturbing scene in the movie “Trainspotting”, which if you haven’t seen it, is a film about heroine addiction. In the film, the parents of a baby are heroine addicts…and you see the baby throughout the film…crawling around their apartment here and there…you don’t really think much of it. Until in one scene, the baby’s parents wake up out of their heroine induced stupor enough to remember to “check on” the baby. And the emotion conveyed is sheer terror and panic…because they’ve lost track of time in a big way…who knows how long they’ve been out…the truth is…and all of a sudden they realize…that for some period of time…who knows how long…they had actually forgotten that they had a baby. And they go to the baby’s room…and look into the crib…and they find their baby dead from neglect…malnourishment…dehydration…whatever. It’s like one of those nightmare’s that you have when you forget about a class that you have until the day of the final…times one million…sheer panic…and confusion…wondering how in the world you could possibly just forget about something like that…something that important…a sense of devastating frustration would be an understatement.
Well, those are analogies that would describe the logistics of it…He was there…right there…I should have known it…maybe at a time so long ago that I don’t quite remember I did know it…but something distracted me…distracted me so much that I couldn’t see Him or hear Him or feel Him…and for so long that I forgot He was there altogether…until that moment. But I didn’t feel terror or panic or frustration or anything even resembling that…like you would in the analogies that I gave…because the baby didn’t die…there was no exam to fail…He loved me just as much as He always had…and was really happy that I finally remembered Him…or found Him…or looked for Him. After all, He always knew I would eventually…He had just been waiting patiently…so patiently…for so long. There was no judgment…no chastisement…nothing lost…nothing damaged…no hurt feelings….just total and unconditional love and acceptance and welcome and joy. It was so strange and so wonderful.
It’s kind of like if you could imagine a world in which you birth your child into a different dimension than the one that you exist in…yea, it’s like that. Your child is born into a dimension in which you can see and hear and feel them, but they can not see or hear or feel you. And as a parent, you live with your child…following them wherever they go, whatever they do…but they have no idea that you are there…that you even exist. You can call to them, but they don’t hear you…you stand right in front of them waving your arms about, but they can’t see you…you reach out to them to hold them and comfort them, but they can’t feel you…you are like a ghost in their world. You have so much you want to teach him, but he can’t learn from you…so much love to give him, but he can’t feel it…he doesn’t even know it’s there to accept. So you have to watch your child grow up in a world without your love and your guidance, and suffer the consequence of the absence of that, and you can’t intervene…you can’t do anything about it. The child has no idea how he came to exist in his world…doesn’t understand how or why or by whom he was created…has no understanding of the existence of his parent…it’s an unanswered question in his dimension. And in his dimension, the question is pondered, and evidence is gathered, and theories are proposed...but the truth is...that the there is only one way for your child to find you…to know you…to know that you’re there…to feel you, to hear you, to learn from you, and to experience your love. But the only way to do that is for your child to believe in your existence enough to invite you…to look for you…to listen for you…he has to seek you…and then and only then can he experience you and your love and learn from you…all of a sudden…you’re there to him.
And some of the children say that there are no such things as parents…that it’s foolish to believe in such things…like believing in fairy tales…that they grew here in this dimension like the plants in the field…and will one day return to the ground where they came. They are no different from the plants. And some children say that they don’t know for sure…can’t really say one way or the other…and they don’t really care…they are happy living their lives as they know it…and have no time to ponder such questions. They say “Who would want such a thing as a parent anyway? Someone to boss you around and chastise and punish you? Who would want such grief?” And their parents hear them say that too. But some children say that they’ve met their parent…and that they’re parents love them so much it’s almost unbelievable…so much more than any child loves another child in their dimension…and that they’ve learned so much from them…and are so grateful. And they go around talking about their parents and trying to lead other children to look for theirs too…to believe that they have them…and that their parents love them and are longing for a relationship with them. Most other children see this as insane boasting of some sort…some elitist fairy tale crapola…they just don’t understand. They say “Well if you have these so called parents to learn from then shouldn’t you be perfect? Why don’t you know everything there is to know then?” And the children who have found their parents explain that they are still learning, and will never know all that there is to learn from them. And they say “Well if these so called parents exist, then why can't you show them to me?” And the children who have found their parents explain that only they themselves can discover their own parents…that it is only you who can invite your own parent…that one child cannot seek or discover another child’s parent’s for them. And those children who have found their parents get frustrated sometimes…because the others don’t understand…they just don’t know what they’re missing…and they don’t even want to know…they think that they are fools or liars one or the other.
Think about what it would be like to be a parent in that world…the sadness…the loneliness…the frustration…the lost love…the waste of all you have to give…and the only barrier between you and your child is the profoundly selfless and generous gift of free will.
The following is something I wrote a while ago, trying to express in words, what it was like to meet Jesus for the first time. It is my honest personal testimony. It is the best I can do to try to describe my experience. I thought that it might help you to understand where I'm coming from, since I'm always talking about being "born again" and "knowing Him personally". And I sincerely, sincerely wish that all of you would experience what I have. God is love.
Love,
Lori
Meeting Jesus
I can’t remember exactly when it was that I met Jesus for the first time. I know that my spiritual journey had been a long one up to that point, going on for years…most of my life…trying to figure things out using the world I had around me…my life experience…science…emotions…logic…religion. Eventually, I had asked to be shown…I wanted the truth…sincerely…and had asked for it…if it was there to be shown. And it was shown to me…through experiences in my life…to the point where the idea of mere coincidence was out the window, and my doubt as to His existence was gone. Up to that time though, it had consisted of me seeing and experiencing things in life, from a simply analytical standpoint, and having enough faith from that to pray to Him for salvation and truth and understanding. With that prayer, truth was shown to me through life experience, physical and mental and emotional experience, and the understanding that came with that…and my faith grew and grew. I was being humbled, and humbled, and humbled…to the truth. At that point I was saved…and I had faith…and I had some understanding of some truth…and I knew where that came from…if for no other reason than that I had asked it of a very specific source…but I did not have a personal relationship with Jesus. I didn’t even know what that was…or that it was even possible. I knew that He was manipulating my life and teaching me things…but it seemed from afar. I didn’t feel Him…I didn’t hear Him…I didn’t sense Him…it was all very “worldly” and analytical.
It bothers me now that I can’t remember what exactly brought on the experience I had when I met Jesus for the first time. I do know though, that I had prayed for that “personal” relationship…to actually know Him…to feel Him…as I know that He only comes when invited. I do remember what it was like though…and I’ve spent a lot of time since then trying to find the words that would adequately describe the experience. Well, there are none…but the following analogies and description are as close as I can come.
I was alone in prayer and in my bedroom and I heard Him speak to me. It was not audible…it was in my head. It was my inner voice…but it wasn’t me who was talking. It was like when I talk to myself in my mind…but it wasn’t me who was talking…and I knew that like I knew that there was a nose on my face. It was not my thought…they were not my words…it wasn’t my tone, or the inflection that I would use even…and what He said to me was…that He loved me. That He loved me and He always had and He always would. He actually said that He loved me over and over and over again. It was as if He knew that I didn't "get it", and so He kept repeating it. He said that He had been there for me…and with me…all along…my whole life…but that I never acknowledged Him…I never looked at Him…or to Him…and He had been waiting for me to for so long. And it wasn’t just the words either…they were accompanied by a presence…His presence. I couldn’t see him with my eyes…or hear Him with my ears…or reach out and touch Him with my hands…I couldn’t smell Him either. It was like I had a sixth sense all of a sudden…one that I was totally unfamiliar with and didn’t understand. I still have no way of describing it other than to say that it’s a “knowing”. His words and His presence brought about an extreme emotional response from me…I cried and cried. I would compare the emotion to what you would experience if you were reunited with a long lost parent maybe…only many times more intense…it’s the most intense and personal bond that I’ve ever felt…I mean, He knows everything…and I mean everything about you…every deed…every thought…every weakness…everything about you since conception….even more than you do about your own self…and then and yet…He loves you…and He loves you unconditionally…now think about that for a minute…yea, the closest thing you could compare it to would be a parent…but the closest parental relationship in the world doesn’t come close to that. I remember feeling as if I had known Him a long, long time ago…so long ago that I couldn’t remember what it was like to be with Him or to know Him…but that I definitely had. And it was bitter-sweet…loving reunions always are…you are so sad and remorseful because of the time lost between you…and yet at the same time so relieved that you have found each other in that moment and that the separation is finally over…and then joyful and thankful for the time together that is to come.
You know, I had always thought it strange, when watching those stupid tv talk shows with their “long lost relative” reunions, how people got so emotional about it all. I never understood what the big emotional deal was about meeting someone, that you didn’t know, for the first time. I mean so what that you shared a little dna? What was the big deal? You hadn’t shared anything else. You hadn’t spent any time together, shared any experiences, or had any knowledge of each other at all, so why all of the emotion? I just didn’t get it. But when I met Jesus for the first time, it became clear to me, that it wasn’t about the time spent, or the experience shared, or the knowledge of the other that was important…it was about who that person is to you. Who is this? This is my Father. And it wasn’t even something that I intellectualized at the time, but something that I felt deep inside of me…a bond that was felt to the very core of my soul. And my soul cried out in comfort and relief.
It was strange because at that point…and looking back on my life…it felt like I knew He had been there all along…right there beside me…but for some reason I had forgotten that He was…it was very strange. It reminds me of a most disturbing scene in the movie “Trainspotting”, which if you haven’t seen it, is a film about heroine addiction. In the film, the parents of a baby are heroine addicts…and you see the baby throughout the film…crawling around their apartment here and there…you don’t really think much of it. Until in one scene, the baby’s parents wake up out of their heroine induced stupor enough to remember to “check on” the baby. And the emotion conveyed is sheer terror and panic…because they’ve lost track of time in a big way…who knows how long they’ve been out…the truth is…and all of a sudden they realize…that for some period of time…who knows how long…they had actually forgotten that they had a baby. And they go to the baby’s room…and look into the crib…and they find their baby dead from neglect…malnourishment…dehydration…whatever. It’s like one of those nightmare’s that you have when you forget about a class that you have until the day of the final…times one million…sheer panic…and confusion…wondering how in the world you could possibly just forget about something like that…something that important…a sense of devastating frustration would be an understatement.
Well, those are analogies that would describe the logistics of it…He was there…right there…I should have known it…maybe at a time so long ago that I don’t quite remember I did know it…but something distracted me…distracted me so much that I couldn’t see Him or hear Him or feel Him…and for so long that I forgot He was there altogether…until that moment. But I didn’t feel terror or panic or frustration or anything even resembling that…like you would in the analogies that I gave…because the baby didn’t die…there was no exam to fail…He loved me just as much as He always had…and was really happy that I finally remembered Him…or found Him…or looked for Him. After all, He always knew I would eventually…He had just been waiting patiently…so patiently…for so long. There was no judgment…no chastisement…nothing lost…nothing damaged…no hurt feelings….just total and unconditional love and acceptance and welcome and joy. It was so strange and so wonderful.
It’s kind of like if you could imagine a world in which you birth your child into a different dimension than the one that you exist in…yea, it’s like that. Your child is born into a dimension in which you can see and hear and feel them, but they can not see or hear or feel you. And as a parent, you live with your child…following them wherever they go, whatever they do…but they have no idea that you are there…that you even exist. You can call to them, but they don’t hear you…you stand right in front of them waving your arms about, but they can’t see you…you reach out to them to hold them and comfort them, but they can’t feel you…you are like a ghost in their world. You have so much you want to teach him, but he can’t learn from you…so much love to give him, but he can’t feel it…he doesn’t even know it’s there to accept. So you have to watch your child grow up in a world without your love and your guidance, and suffer the consequence of the absence of that, and you can’t intervene…you can’t do anything about it. The child has no idea how he came to exist in his world…doesn’t understand how or why or by whom he was created…has no understanding of the existence of his parent…it’s an unanswered question in his dimension. And in his dimension, the question is pondered, and evidence is gathered, and theories are proposed...but the truth is...that the there is only one way for your child to find you…to know you…to know that you’re there…to feel you, to hear you, to learn from you, and to experience your love. But the only way to do that is for your child to believe in your existence enough to invite you…to look for you…to listen for you…he has to seek you…and then and only then can he experience you and your love and learn from you…all of a sudden…you’re there to him.
And some of the children say that there are no such things as parents…that it’s foolish to believe in such things…like believing in fairy tales…that they grew here in this dimension like the plants in the field…and will one day return to the ground where they came. They are no different from the plants. And some children say that they don’t know for sure…can’t really say one way or the other…and they don’t really care…they are happy living their lives as they know it…and have no time to ponder such questions. They say “Who would want such a thing as a parent anyway? Someone to boss you around and chastise and punish you? Who would want such grief?” And their parents hear them say that too. But some children say that they’ve met their parent…and that they’re parents love them so much it’s almost unbelievable…so much more than any child loves another child in their dimension…and that they’ve learned so much from them…and are so grateful. And they go around talking about their parents and trying to lead other children to look for theirs too…to believe that they have them…and that their parents love them and are longing for a relationship with them. Most other children see this as insane boasting of some sort…some elitist fairy tale crapola…they just don’t understand. They say “Well if you have these so called parents to learn from then shouldn’t you be perfect? Why don’t you know everything there is to know then?” And the children who have found their parents explain that they are still learning, and will never know all that there is to learn from them. And they say “Well if these so called parents exist, then why can't you show them to me?” And the children who have found their parents explain that only they themselves can discover their own parents…that it is only you who can invite your own parent…that one child cannot seek or discover another child’s parent’s for them. And those children who have found their parents get frustrated sometimes…because the others don’t understand…they just don’t know what they’re missing…and they don’t even want to know…they think that they are fools or liars one or the other.
Think about what it would be like to be a parent in that world…the sadness…the loneliness…the frustration…the lost love…the waste of all you have to give…and the only barrier between you and your child is the profoundly selfless and generous gift of free will.
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