Sunday, March 4, 2012

The Most Precious of Days.

This day is an important day in my life.
March 4th. It doesn't look important. There are no fireworks, no parades, no ceremonies.
But it is the most important day I can remember.
Sure, I remember the days that each of my siblings were born. Going to the hospital to find Mama and the newest baby was thrilling. Seeing the tiny face that looked so much like my own, but yet so different was astounding for my little mind. Smelling the strange hospital smells mixed with the sweet baby smell of my newest best friend and the scent of the chocolate that my dad had stashed somewhere in that tiny was just so much for my senses. Feeling the hugs of my grandparents, holding the baby for the first time, and leaning against my proud daddy...we were all happy and together. And yes, it was important. But it doesn't top this day.
Even my birthdays have been important. Each party sillier and more dramatic than the last. Each year, more friends were invited, more noise was made, and more laughter was heard. I can pick out specific birthdays in my memory, but sometimes I'm not sure if they are my own birthday or the birthday of a sister. It truly didn't matter. The parties were for everyone. We all celebrated and laughed and were joyous together. But today isn't my birthday.
It isn't the anniversary of meeting my best friend or coming to Union. It isn't a day that anyone else would wake up and think of immediately. It isn't a day that matters much to anyone else. But today means everything to me.
Today is the eleven year anniversary of my salvation. Yet, unlike all those other occasions, I don't remember much from those precious moments. Mostly I remember how bright the lights seemed in our sanctuary. I can remember the feeling of the chair in front of me under the tight grip of my fingers. I can remember the shape of my small feet against the hardwood floor, the sound of a hymn playing, the nervous beating of my heart.
But most of all, I remember the peace. Not the sound of peace, but the feeling of peace that settled into my heart that night and hasn't flown away since. This day isn't a day for parades, but rather for quiet reflection and thanksgiving. It's not a day that immediately matters to anyone but me...but in the years to come, this day will matter to those who I continue to share the Gospel with, to my future husband who will have a Believing wife, and to my future children who will have a Godly mother.
I don't remember the words I spoke to the Lord. I don't remember what was said to convince me of my need for salvation. All I know is that I knew I needed Jesus...and how right I was.
How fitting that my pastor preached solely on Christ's death and resurrection today. Every moment of our service was focused on the Blood...and it was good. Every word spoken, every song sung, every single breath...they all rejuvenated me. Most importantly, they reminded me of the Power that the Blood had-and has- to cleanse me from my sin. How precious that Flow truly is, for it does make me white as snow.

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