Nothing But The Blood

As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, 2 in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. 3 All of us also lived among them at one time,gratifying the cravings of our flesh and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. 4 But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, 5 made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. 6 And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, 7 in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace,expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. 8 For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— 9 not by works, so that no one can boast. 10 For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Ephesians 2:1-10

Wow, it has been a while since I have written anything let alone in this devotional blog. Three years to be exact. I have been exceedingly busy these last three years. I left a job in retail to pursue a Job in health care. I them left health care to start my own landscaping company. It has been a busy three years. I am glad to be able to step back and write a little bit.

I tend to think I know something about grace. I have taken the time to read about grace and study it and try to make sense of it. The problem is that while we can have a rational knowledge and understand of grace we are often caught off guard by actual grace. I sure know that I am.

I was 11 years old when I decided to follow Jesus Christ at camp. Though I had grown up in church and was a pastor's kid I didn't really, truly know what salvation was. Maybe the grown ups didn't think I could fully understand it or what forgiveness really is like when eternity is on the line. They were probably right, but in just a few days I would be in more need of grace and forgiveness than anyone could have ever imagined.

The day I came home from camp I was pretty happy even though on my way home I had told my mom that I gave my heart to Jesus and all she said was “that's nice”. I'm not sure what I expected her to say, but I thought it was a bigger deal than a “that's nice”.

At home I did a few things in the house and then headed out to play with the neighbor boy who was a few years older than me. Little did I know that evil would assault my heart that day for the very first time in a devastating, life altering way.

Our neighbor's lived on land that used to be an apple orchard. All the trees were gone now but the barns still stood, or half stood, and one still had the old steam engine powered apple press in it. The neighbor boy and I would play in this barn for hours. Playing cops chasing bad guys or marines in a fierce battle. We were always the victors, of course there wasn't anyone truly fighting back, but that is what imagination is all about.

On this fine sunny, summer day the neighbor kid and I were playing in the barn and for some reason I got the idea that I would play a girl character. I don't remember why I would ever come up with such an idea, but I did. As we played one of us said we should have a play kiss, because that is what boys and girls do, right? The neighbor boy took his hand and put it up to his mouth to cover his lips so that our mouths wouldn't really touch, because after all kissing was gross. We did this several times on this day.

I am not sure when it exactly happened, but I will never forget the moment when we were play kissing and my neighbor pulled his hand away like pulling a table cloth out from under all the dinner wear. It was fast, very fast. “What are you doing!” I said. “Maybe we should try it for real.” was the response. I'm not sure what I was thinking. Maybe it was the prepubescent nature of my hormones, but I remember actually trying it for real.

As far as I remember that was it for that day. I don't remember anything else from that day. I do know that I felt weird and pretty dirty. I had heard my father talk about homosexuality from the pulpit and I knew anything close to that was wrong. I knew that I was in need of forgiveness. I knew I was not suppose to do anything like that. The kissing incident happened a few more time after that. Each time feeling dirty and sick, but at the same time it had awakened something in me that enjoyed it.

I'm not sure when it happened exactly but the neighbor kid eventually introduced me to box full of his brother's pornographic magazines in one of the other barns. It wasn't too long after this that we were no longer wasting our time with play kissing. We had awakened sexuality before its time and it was a downhill spiral into homosexuality that was as dark as the darkest night.

This went on for years. While I knew it was wrong and disgusting I continued to go back to it. Every time I would cry out to God for forgiveness but I would continue in the sin. Every time I would say I will never do it again, but I always would. It became a dark hole from which I couldn't find a way out.

I used to blame the neighbor kid for abusing me, as if I didn't have a choice. Maybe he opened the door, but I chose to walk through it. I no longer blame him for any of it. I place much of the blame on myself. Yes, I have been through the whole, “he sexually abused me” thought process, but really it wasn't. I was just as much of an abuser as he was. I would actually encourage it. Not so much because I liked it, but because I was happy that someone was spending time with me. Someone was there giving me their undivided attention. That is what felt good.

Eventually, I got to a place with God that I knew this could never happen again and I stopped it. I no longer went over to the neighbor's house. I wouldn't even talk to the neighbor kid anymore. For many years after this I felt alone and forgotten. Because of the pain of what I had done I contemplated suicide. Going so far as to take my shot gun off the wall in my bedroom, load it, and hold it pointing the barrel at my face thinking that this would be easier than living with myself being such a disgusting human being. The only thing that stopped me was the thought of what people would think of my parents if I took my own life.

Slowly but surely God began drawing me out of my deep depression and worked in my heart enough to the point where I could function as a human again. But I was different. When I was a kid I was out going and had allot of friends. Now, and to this day, I struggle to make and keep friends, especially male friends. I am afraid they can see me for who I really am, what I did back those many years ago. I found solace in making music, or noise, whatever you want to call it. I purchased a drum set and a big stereo system. I was home schooled so I would sit in my room and blast the music when my mother left to go run errands and beat the hell out of those drums. It was the only thing that helped in those dark days. I would turn on DC Talk or Five Iron Frenzy (both Christian Bands) and would beat those drums until either they broke or I got so winded I couldn't play any more (and yes, I broke my fair share of drum heads).

I am so grateful to my conservative parents that let me work out my depression to loud rock music. I'm not sure why they permitted it, but I am glad they did. There were times when I would be playing and just begin to weep. Either it was something in the song that spoke to my heart or I just found myself in a very broken place. Either way, it was good for my soul.

Without music I would have never come to the place I am at today. For a few years I was a worship leader. One of my friends who was playing drums came over to my house just to hang out. I started playing guitar and singing (as I often did) and just started worshiping. My friend said, “I love watching you just sit here and worship, just you and the guitar.” My friend had no idea the depths I had had to endure to get to that place. My worship comes out of the deep down, dark places of my heart. The places that no average person would care to go, and in fact most people who turn to suicide, I believe are in those depths. Think Lord of The Rings when the fellowship's journey takes them into the Mines of Moria, only darker. That is where my worship flows from.

Not only does my worship flow from there but God's grace also flow to that deep, dark place. That is why I can worship from that place, why I can see light down in those depths. God's light has shined into the darkness in my soul and has dispersed the darkness. Do I know something about the deepest and darkest parts of a mans soul? Yes, I think so. But I know more of the grace that surpasses all understanding. Jesus Christ went to the cross and endured the murderous rage of a world with unexplored deep, dark places in their hearts who would rather kill Him than let Him shine his light in those deep down evil places in our hearts. Yet, “God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions – it is by grace you have been saved.”

God's grace goes deeper than anyone can know. Deeper than the deepest ocean. Jesus is willing to go to the depths of hell for you and I, wrestle the keys of death and destruction from Satan so that we might have life everlasting. Now that is a God who loves more than anyone could ever know. His grace is boundless, his mercy limitless, and his love bigger than all the galaxies combined.