This past Sunday I lie in bed, listening to a pastor give his sermon. I shut him down and didn’t want to hear his entire message. At the end of the service he did what many pastors like to do, invite us sinners to accept Jesus as our Lord and Savior. The sanctuary was full of lost sheep, many of who were not even looking for the right path.

For fifty years I attended church when convenient to my schedule. We, my husband and I would miss months at a time, but still consider ourselves Christians. I did a meager handful of Bible studies over the years and barely ever would have cracked open a Bible. I was that kind of Christian. The kind who was raised in the church, married a man who also was raised as a Christian, but simply listens to a message when convenient. We were both lost and on our own path.

And that morning, I lie there as sick as a dog, annoyed because a pastor thinks accepting Jesus as our Lord and Savior is some easy task. At approximately 54 minutes into the service he asks the congregants (hundreds of them) to close their eyes and pray for those who haven’t accepted Jesus and then stand if they have. Of course, since it is an auditorium full of sheep they will all stand. They are a large group of people lost together and dutifully accepting Christ.

This weeks blog post should be on the difficulty of accepting Jesus as one’s Lord and Savior, because its much harder than they make it out to be.

Lost but not alone on my path.

Being sick for a week with a severe cold I lack interest in blogging, reading, and devoting time to God. We had our daughters in town and a friend visiting from Spain. With an Universal Islands of Adventure trip and big Thanksgiving dinner to be prepare I have no time to be sick.

My husband turned into this amazing super husband doting on my every need. The love I felt from him has been undying. His performance was grammy deserving. You see, my husband has been a constant in my life. We have had moments even in the recent past that I wasn’t feeling the love. During the years of active addiction our relationship had been volatile and still as passionate human beings we have our moments.

God placed this one imperfect man in my life. So we could struggle through life together. We can face temptation, each learning how to individually deal with our hurts, habits, and hang-ups. I found a recovery program and my husband found pickle ball. We support each other and are on a path in search of a balance within our marriage.

This week’s blog post is about marriage, because it ain’t easy, but God blessed me with the perfect mate so I do not need to struggle through life alone.

Together we are no longer lost and we will get there.

For me it took over half my life to finally accept Jesus, because I was desperate for redemption. It isn’t something that should be done lightly, that is why I struggle with these ongoing invitations from pastors as they preach. What I have discovered is that the pastor is priming the hearts of the aspiring Christians to allow Jesus into our lives, not necessarily into our hearts.

God places each of us on our own journeys. God gives us ample opportunity to get lost. And for someone like myself it wasn’t just a couple wrong turns, but my personal compass was broken. Each direction I chose to take was leading me down a wrong path. And, worst yet my traveling companion’s equipment was also malfunctioning.

Together we were traveling on the wide road to hell, until one day God sent Jesus to navigate. Now I have a mapped out journey and my husband has decided to travel with me. I don’t know exactly where he was on his journey, for he could have easily decided to take another path. In fact, at any point along the way we both can still veer off course.

Being a Christian isn’t something I take lightly, but my heart has been leading my way with my love for God and my husband.