Love Comes First

Posted on May 2, 2013 by Laurie Coombs

I received a letter from Anthony (the man who murdered my dad) a couple weeks ago. In it, he said, “I also know you feel as I do, if only one person read [our testimony] and came to Jesus because of it, because of our pain, tears, repentance, and forgiveness, all of it was worth it.”

Anthony is right. And He got me thinking.

If our story saves one––only one––I do believe my efforts to share what God has done is all worth it. Yet, I also believe Jesus called me to share this story with many. In fact, I believe I’m called to write a book about it.

What It Takes to Publish Today

When writing a book, you hear a lot about the need to build a “platform” or establish a “tribe” of followers who engage with you both on your blog and on social media (Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest…) who will then become your audience for your proposed book. Even though all this “platform building” feel like self-promotion––which makes me ridiculously uncomfortable––I’ve been doing it, nonetheless, attempting to promote Jesus instead of myself.

Building a platform is a necessary step toward publishing.

But it can so quickly become about the numbers. How many people are reached with each post? How many visitors to my blog each day, week, month? How many Twitter followers? How many Facebook likes? And the list goes on.

But what gets lost amid the numbers is love. Each of those numbers represents a soul. A soul Jesus loves and wants to help. We are all called to love one another. We’re all called to minister to one another. It may look different for some people than for others, but the call is all the same. Love.

My Followers?

And here’s the thing: My “followers” are not my followers, they’re Jesus’ followers. [Tweet that] A sweet friend pointed that out to me the other night, and I appreciated the perspective.

This issue is not a new one, either. It was found long before the emergence of social media and platform building. The Corinthian church faced the same problem. In 1 Corinthians 1:12-14 and 1:17 Paul says,

What I mean is that each one of you says, ‘I follow Paul,’ or ‘I follow Apollos,’ or ‘I follow Cephas,’ or ‘I follow Christ.’Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul? …For Christ did not send me to baptize but to preach the gospel, and not with words of eloquent wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power.

It is Jesus who needs to be center. We don’t need Laurie followers, we need Jesus followers!

All You Need is Love (Love Before Mission)

My calling––and your calling too––needs to come from a place of love, for without love there is no real impact. [Tweet that] Sure, some may be intrigued by our stories, but the impact will be little without love.

And I confess that I have lost the love I had at first. But I’m praying for grace. I need a complete paradigm shift to take place through the mercy and grace of God.

It’s not about numbers. It’s not about me. It’s not even about my story.

It’s about Jesus.

It’s about loving God and loving people. Sound familiar? It’s the Great Commandment Jesus spoke of in both Matthew and Mark.

The Great Commandment comes before anything else. Yet, it is followed by the Great Commission.

The Great Commission is our mission in this world. Jesus tells us, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:19-20).

We do have a mission––to share the message of the Gospel with the world. But the mission doesn’t come before the commandment to love. [Tweet that]

The cart doesn’t come before the horse!

Love is first. Always. [Tweet that]

Yet, we have a job to do. And for some of us that job may require the use of social media, but it is all to be motivated by love. Just as the title of Bob Goff’s book says, “Love Does.” (This is a great book, by the way, one of my favorites!)

I’ve somehow gotten things a little backwards lately. And for that I am sorry, I repent, and I pray that all I do is derived out of my love for Jesus and for His people. If you could join me in this prayer, I’d greatly appreciate it. The prayer of many is powerful, and I want to get this one right.

Back to what Anthony said. If I can impact only one through my love, it will all be worth it.

{Love comes first.}

Question: Have you experienced this? Any words of wisdom you would like to share? Share in the comments.

To read more about my journey toward forgiveness, read Freedom Through Grace or {Redemption} Your Testimony May Have Saved a Life.

{Lessons Learned} Do You Need Jesus to Forgive?

Posted on April 25, 2013 by Laurie Coombs

I had a feeling something was still there. Some residual scarring caused by my dad’s murder. In a way, I wanted to go there. Get it all out. Heal completely. But at the same time, I feared what would be found.

I sure hope I’m not really screwed up, I thought.

But I knew some soul work needed to be done. Digging would have to take place. And the root of whatever was left behind would have to be excavated and restored.

I tried to do this on my own for nine years after Dad died. I tried to “pick myself up by my bootstraps” and move on, reasoning that Dad would have wanted it this way. He wouldn’t want me to succumb to the wave of despair that threatened to swallow me whole.

So, I moved on. Each time the thought of Anthony came into my mind, I chose with precise deliberation to cast these thoughts aside.

I forgive him, I’d tell myself, knowing full well that I didn’t. I thought if I did this long enough, it would become my reality. It was the only way I knew how to move toward forgiveness, and I hoped this would allow me to shed the effects of my past.

Even the secular world tells us to forgive. “You must forgive and forget,” we’re told.

And, so we do. Or we think we do.

We will ourselves into believing that we’ve arrived at the desired destination. That we’ve forgiven.

I forgive Anthony, I told myself. I do.

Then, I became a Christian after completely falling apart. And I mean completely falling apart. I’ve written about this time before, but for our purpose here, I must tell you that I don’t think I would have gotten to this point of complete desperation and complete lack of hope had it not been for my unforgiving heart (The one I thought was forgiving, mind you).

So, there I was, a baby Christian, one year after surrendering my life to Christ when the call to forgive came. Quite frankly, I was surprised.

But I’ve already forgiven Anthony, came my rebuttal to God.

Soon, I learned that forgiveness––real forgiveness, that is––can only be accomplished through Jesus, the one who died to make forgiveness possible.

It’s the same with all things.

We cannot love, in the full sense of the term, without first receiving God’s love.

We cannot extend true mercy or grace without first receiving God’s mercy and grace.

So to, we cannot forgive, completely and unconditionally, without first receiving God’s forgiveness. [Tweet that]

It is Jesus who made forgiveness possible, and it is He who guides us onto our own path toward forgiveness. [Tweet that]

I’ve mentioned this before, but I don’t think I can emphasize it enough. Forgiveness is a process. It is not something that occurs instantly. And it requires a decision to pray for Jesus to guide you toward that end.

So, I encourage each of you to take another look at your life. Take another look at you relationships. And prayerfully assess whether or not you hold unforgiveness in your heart. And if you do, I implore you to seek God and forgive.

Forgiveness will set you free. [Tweet that]

Remember, forgiveness begins with prayer. [Tweet that] Pray for God to lead you toward freedom today.

{Forgiveness is only possible through Jesus.}

Question: Has God been showing you unforgiveness in your heart? Who do you need to forgive? How have you tried to forgive apart from God? Share in the comments.

To read more about my journey toward forgiveness, read Freedom Through Grace or {Redemption} Your Testimony May Have Saved a Life.

{Lessons Learned} Watch Yourself or Can a Christian Commit Murder?

Posted on April 15, 2013 by Laurie Coombs

Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children’s children. – Deuteronomy 4:9

Anthony claimed he was a Christian at the time of the murder, and I had a real problem with this. As a non-Christian and even after coming to Christ, I didn’t understand how someone who professed faith in Jesus could do something like this. Doesn’t a sin of this magnitude disqualify you from being a Christian?

You can’t claim to be a Christian and commit murder, I thought.

Recently, however, when telling me about a book he was reading by Kyle Idleman called Not a Fan, Anthony said,

“I wonder, had I not come to prison would I have stayed a fan of Jesus or become a follower? I knew Him. I went to Bible studies. I read my Bible daily, but I didn’t let him into every dark corner of my heart. I was not a follower. Now, I truly follow Him. But this book is an eye-opener.”

Anthony went to church faithfully before he committed the murder. As he said, he went to Bible studies. He read his Bible daily. He knew Jesus.

When I began to correspond with Anthony, I met with my pastor and asked him, “Is it possible for a Christian to commit murder?”

My pastor’s response? Absolutely. It is possible.

I wrestled with this issue for quite some time, but ultimately I saw that my pastor was right. One profound example of this can be found in the story of David. David was chosen, used mightily, and was called a man after God’s own heart both before and after he had Bathsheba’s husband killed. David was in a covenantal relationship with God––the equivalent of being a Christ follower today––yet he sinned greatly.

Now, I don’t know whether or not Anthony’s relationship with Jesus was authentic when he killed my dad, but it could have been. And honestly, this truth scares me, as it should all of us.

We must guard our hearts.

You see, we’re all prone to folly. We’re all prone to sin. And sin can creep in before we know it.

In one of my letters to Anthony, I said, “…you still cultivated the emotions and feeling that lead you astray. You still allowed your soul to be poisoned with hatred which ultimately lead to your actions.”

In response, Anthony said:

I may have cultivated the emotions that led me to be poisoned. But not hate, anger yes but I didn’t hate your dad. I did not go over to your dads house to kill him, to threaten and scare, yes. But having that anger in my heart opened me up to the possibility of something bad and as we know bad happened. – Anthony, November 2010

All throughout the book of Deuteronomy, God tells us to watch ourselves. Over and over again He says, “Take care, lest your heart be deceived” (Deuteronomy 11:16), “Take care lest you forget the Lord your God” (Deuteronomy 8:11), “Take care, lest you forget the covenant of the Lord your God” (Deuteronomy 4:23).

1 Peter 5:8 tells us to “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” Paul exhorts Timothy to “Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching. Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers” (1 Timothy 4:16).

Considering Anthony’s testimony and reading through each of these scriptures, this much is clear: we must guard our hearts to assure we don’t cultivate an environment for sin to grow. For, we can be led astray quickly.

{Guard your heart. Don’t allow sin to creep in.} [tweet that]

Question: What are your thoughts? How do you guard your heart or keep watch on yourself? Share in the comments.

To read more about my journey toward forgiveness, read Freedom Through Grace or {Redemption} Your Testimony May Have Saved a Life.

{Lessons Learned} Why We Need to Stop Comparing Ourselves to Each Other

Posted on March 21, 2013 by Laurie Coombs

Jesus said to him, “…what is that to you? You follow me!” – John 21:22

We cannot accurately judge our sins or behaviors by comparing ourselves to others. [Tweet that] And when we do so, our assessment of ourselves, our sins, and the consequence of those sins will, most assuredly, be skewed.

I addressed this issue with Anthony as we were working toward forgiveness. I wrote,

…one more thought that I have has to do with comparing ourselves to others. I think this is dangerous, yet I believe we all do it to a certain extent….

…we, as Christians, are not to judge ourselves based upon those around us. Many of us look around and consciously or unconsciously compare ourselves to others in the world. We look around and see that there are people out there who have done x or committed y, then we look to ourselves and say, “well, I haven’t done that, so I’m a pretty good person.”

Yet, the Bible teaches us that none are good. That we have all turned away from God, and were, at one time, enemies of God–our creator. We are reminded to be in the world, but not of the world. That we are different, and that we not think more highly of ourselves or our actions than we ought.

When comparing your sentence in relationship to your crime to that of those around you, what you’re essentially saying is that God isn’t in control of your situation; that He didn’t oversee your sentence. That because you had a “reason” [for murdering my dad] it’s somehow better than not having a reason. That you deserve less time because my dad got you really mad?!? As if that’s justification.

While Anthony disagreed with my assessment regarding God ordaining his sentence, he did write back and say, “You were right though in saying we Christians are held to a higher standard and I am wrong to compare my sentence to others.”

The standard we are to meet is God’s standard, not one that is arbitrarily orchestrated in our favor. [Tweet that] And God’s standard requires perfection, which is obviously unattainable and is the reason we need Jesus to save us.

Comparison

Comparison is folly. Pure and simple. [Tweet that]

Comparison says I sin, but at least I don’t sin like you. (Or I am the worst sinner there is, far greater than you.)

Comparison says I deserve more than you. (Or I am a worm who deserves nothing compared to you.)

Comparison says I am better than you. (Or you are better than me.)

Yet, the fact of the matter is that no one is better than any another. As said before, we all equally stand in need of grace and mercy. [Tweet that]

{We cannot accurately judge our sins or behaviors by comparing ourselves to others.}

Question: Do you find yourself comparing yourself to others? Share in the comments.

To leave a comment, click on the link above. This will take you to the post where you can leave your comment at the bottom.

To read more about my journey toward forgiveness, read Freedom Through Grace or {Redemption} Your Testimony May Have Saved a Life.

{Lessons Learned} No Sin is Justifiable: How Anthony Stopped Justifying Murder

Posted on March 18, 2013 by Laurie Coombs

Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and give no opportunity to the devil. – Ephesians 4:26-27

There is always a reason behind the sins we commit.

There is a reason I sometimes lose it and yell at my kids.

There is a reason I find myself rooting through my pantry, looking for something to fill me (though I’m not hungry), when I should be going to Jesus to be filled instead.

And there was a reason I stood in condemnation of Anthony, the man who murdered my dad, unable to forgive him for a decade.

Honestly, there are times when the reasons behind our sins seem legitimate. Sometimes our kids need to be disciplined. Sometimes we need to be filled. Sometimes we have been wronged.

The feelings we feel are legitimate. Sometimes, for example, we should be angry about the sins and atrocities committed in this world, for they anger God, and the anger we feel is what’s called righteous anger. But still, we must not sin regardless of whether or not there is a reason to.

No Sin is Justified

A couple weeks ago, I said all sins are forgivable, and this is true. All sin is forgivable, but ultimately, no sin is justifiable.

This issue was discussed extensively with Anthony during our correspondence. There was a reason Anthony killed my dad. And at one point, things got pretty heated as we discussed just that.

I felt Anthony was justifying the murder, saying that in some way he was justified to kill my dad because there was a “reason” behind what he did. As you can imagine, that didn’t sit well with me.

Anthony wrote:

I am in here with people who killed someone for no reason, or drugs or killed 2 people and have less time than me. I don’t think that’s justice. I am sorry.

We were discussing his sentence––life without the possibility of parole––which I believe is just for his crime. And when I read his words, I was set on fire. I responded and said,

…while you have said that you will “forever be sorry for what [you] did and how [you] hurt [my] family,” your last two letters seemed to indicate that you’re justifying your actions by claiming you had a “reason” for killing my dad. While I will never dispute the fact that my dad made some mistakes, there is absolutely no justification for what you did, and the fact that you had a “reason” for committing murder doesn’t make your actions any more or less of a crime.

Even though Anthony apologized for murdering my dad, I felt he was trying to justify his behavior. He, of course, didn’t see it that way. Anthony wrote back:

I have never said I had a “reason” for killing your dad but you wanted to know what led up to that day, what was my emotional state and such. I felt it was safe to give you an overview of the stuff leading up to it. This also seems to have been misconstrued as justification, not so.

Even though he maintained that he was not justifying his behavior, he repeatedly pointed to the actions of others involved, essentially saying, yeah I did it, but look what they did. When all I wanted to hear was, I did it. I am sorry. Period.

To Anthony’s credit, I asked him a lot of questions about the circumstances leading up to the murder. And he willingly gave me his perspective, which I am thankful for because it allowed me to gain greater understanding, leading to further healing.

Still, it felt as though he was using his “reasons” to justify taking my dad’s life. In my eyes, he was remorseful, but not yet repentant.

Months passed, and I was given grace to forgive despite Anthony’s justification. But then, I watched as Jesus began to change Anthony’s heart.

Two years later, Anthony wrote:

I needed to own what I did. I murdered a man. I did it…. I wanted to feel justified in what I did because the alternative was to hate myself, but when Laurie forgave me, she allowed me to forgive myself. I could also go to God humbly and ask his forgiveness. And God is so faithful, so I know I am forgiven.

Isn’t that why we all justify our sin? It’s difficult to live with ourselves once we come to understand that there is no one to blame but ourselves. Yet, there is comfort to be found in the forgiveness of God, which can be seen in Anthony’s story.

When we see his story, we see the power of God at work. God took an unrepentant murderer whose only option was to justify his behavior to escape self-loathing, and he transformed him by his grace. Jesus showed Anthony the Gospel. And Anthony finally came to a place of repentance and healing, as his excuses fell to the ground.

Through this process, both Anthony and I were shown that while the circumstances leading to sin can certainly bring understanding, they are by no means justification for our actions.

{There is always a reason behind the sins we commit, but no sin is justifiable.} [Tweet that]

Question - Each of us have been tempted to justify our actions at one point or another. I now I struggle with this from time to time. How about you? Do you take full responsibility for your sins or do you tend to justify your actions or place the blame on others involved? Share in the comments.

To leave a comment, click on the link above. This will take you to the post where you can leave your comment at the bottom.

To read more about my journey toward forgiveness, read Freedom Through Grace or {Redemption} Your Testimony May Have Saved a Life.

{Lessons Learned} We Are No Better Than Repentant Murderers

Posted on March 11, 2013 by Laurie Coombs

…all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God – Romans 3:23

You are no better than him, I felt the Lord say to me.

I was taken by surprise. Stunned, really.

I had just gotten another letter from Anthony, the man who murdered my dad. I was angry and was contemplating what Anthony wrote, while crying out to God, How could he? How could he think that? Why doesn’t he see the truth? Who does he think he is?

Then came the rebuke, You are no better than him.

I fell silent and was put in my place, instantly. All my judgement, all my condemnation came to an immediate and abrupt stop, and I knew––I am no better than the man who murdered my own dad. [Tweet that]

It was a difficult truth to swallow. Truths like these don’t usually sit well.

Perhaps it’s because we’re listening to the world, with all its corrupt conceptions of how things should work instead of turning to the Word of God, which tells us that we are all equally sinners in desperate need of grace and mercy. The difference is: some know it and others don’t. [Tweet that]

God Shows No Partiality

Truly, God shows no partiality between repentant sinners. Take a look at some of the most influential patriarchs of our faith:

Moses ran away from his privileged life in Egypt after killing one of Pharaoh’s men prior to being called and empowered to lead Israel out of Egyptian slavery.
David committed adultery with Bathsheba, impregnated her, then had her husband placed on the front line of battle to ensure he would be killed, yet God still calls Davis a man after His own heart and used him mightily.
Paul sought after and personally oversaw the murder of several early Christians prior to being saved, transformed, and called to spread the Gospel to much of the world.

Talking a close look at the record of these men and others who were used mightily for the Kingdom of God brings the truths of 1 Corinthians 1:26-29 to light. It says:

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong;God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are,so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.

It is quite likely that if you are saved, you were once foolish, weak, lowly, or despised. We all come before Christ as beggars, poor in spirit, and in desperate need of redemption. [Tweet that] We are all equally guilty of sin before a Holy God.

Yet, the moment we come to Christ by faith, we are all washed clean. There is no distinction. My cleanliness is no better than Anthony’s. Once again, this is the beauty and scandal behind the forgiveness of God.

{We are no better than repentant murderers.}

Which of God’s truths do you have difficulty swallowing?

Share in the comments.

To read more about my journey toward forgiveness, read Freedom Through Grace or {Redemption} Your Testimony May Have Saved a Life.

{Lessons Learned} In Order to Follow Jesus, We Must Know Jesus.

Posted on January 14, 2013 by Laurie Coombs

Do you trust someone you don’t know? Would you listen to the advice of someone you just met and follow them into a risky situation?

I think most people would have enough discernment to get to know someone prior to trusting them. And this translates well into our relationship with God. If you don’t know Jesus, why would you trust Him with your life?

Yes, it is true. In order to follow Jesus, we must know Jesus. [Tweet that]

Here’s how this played out in my story:

When I was called to forgive Anthony, I knew God is loving, and that He was simply asking me to give what He graciously gave me.

When I was called to love my enemy, I knew God is good, and that He would only ask me to do something that would lead me to a better place.

When I feared interaction with a man capable of murder, I knew God is my Protector, and I knew He loved me and there was no reason to fear.

When the warden turned down my visitation application, and I struggled with whether or not I was on the right path, I knew Jesus is my Shepherd, and He would show me the way.

When the correspondence between Anthony and I became “heated” as we hashed through the particulars of the murder, I knew God had purpose in even the most difficult times.

When I felt I couldn’t go on, when the emotions of digging up the darkest parts of my past threatened to pull me under, I knew God is my Healer, and He would bring me through.

When those in my life witnessed the intense trials along the way and began to express their doubts about whether I should continue, I knew God called me to correspond with Anthony, and He would redeem my dad’s murder through this trial.

When I got each letter and awaited direction from the Lord on how to proceed, I knew God usually doesn’t perform on my timetable. But, I knew He always answers those who cry out to Him, in His perfect timing.

When I forgave Anthony, I knew God gave me grace to forgive and there was nothing inside of me capable of that forgiveness apart from Him.

When I witnessed a complete transformation in Anthony as God brought him to repentance, I knew God is powerful, and He changes hearts of stone into ones that exude His light and beauty.

When I saw God use this testimony to transform others, including many prisoners, I knew God has a heart for the lost and chooses the least of these (myself included) to adopt into His family.

There’s so much more.

But here’s the thing: had I not known God’s character to begin with, I would not have followed, and I would have no testimony to share.

Knowing God

I don’t know how to say this without sounding harsh, but here’s the truth: many Christians claim to know and love Jesus but don’t.

Many of us claim to be in relationship with God, but spend little or no time in His presence. Many of us claim to know God, but actually possess very little knowledge about who God is––we don’t know His character as revealed in His Word.

But it’s not enough to simply know about God. We must know God. It’s important to ask ourselves: Do I really know God or do I just know about Him? This distinction may seem like a small nuance to some, but the difference is paramount.

So, how do we come to know God?

The answer is not in religion. [Tweet that] It’s not to be found in what we do or how good we are, but I do believe it begins prayer. A simple prayer asking Him for the grace to know Him and to want to spend time with Him. A marriage doesn’t thrive when the couple spends most of their time apart. They must make time together a priority if their marriage is going to thrive. It’s the same with your relationship with God.

Make time for Him. Spend time in prayer, write in a prayer journal, read your Bible, take a walk by yourself and seek God, or simply sit before Him in silence. Whatever it takes to come to Jesus, do it!

Make Jesus a priority and just watch what He begins to do in your life. [Tweet that]

As you come to him [Jesus], a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. – 1 Peter 2:4-5

{In order to follow Jesus, we must know Jesus.}

How has knowing God allowed you to step out in faith?

Share in the comments.

NOTE: I tried, really, I did. I tried to make it short, but this was surely anything but short! Here’s to keeping that goal in the future!!

To read more about my journey toward forgiveness, read Freedom Through Grace or {Redemption} Your Testimony May Have Saved a Life.

Bounty Through Obedience

Posted on August 8, 2012 by Laurie Coombs

I knew something happened. Shaking my head, I adamantly whispered, “No. no. no. no…” But with tear-filled eyes they told me. “Laurie, your dad was murdered last night. He’s dead.”

Startled, my eyes began to dart around the room, not knowing what to do with what I had been told. As my new reality began closing in around me, I felt the shackles of a heavy burden weighing me down, but there was no escape. I wanted to run away. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit something, throw something. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening, I thought.

But it did happen. And in that moment, my life was forever changed.

About a month before my dad died, he took me out to dinner. It was a welcomed treat for a poor college student. I sat across a small table from him. And after a bit of small talk, he asked me, “So, whatch ya going to do after you graduate?”

“I don’t know,” I said, putting my fork down. I was a year away from getting my bachelors degree, and the thought of getting into “real life” excited me. “I’d like to see what kind of a job I can get first, but maybe I’ll go on to law school. Or maybe I could get my teaching credentials and become a history teacher,” I added with enthusiasm. “What do you think?”

“I think that’s up to you,” he responded with a grin and a look that made my heart smile.

Soon, our conversation turned, and with a spark that I hadn’t seen in quite some time, my dad told me about a woman he’d been dating. I asked some questions about her, and my dad did his best to answer them. “She’s a good Christian woman,” he told me. And he went on to tell me that he started going to church again.

“Oh, good,” I said. But then tried to change the subject. I wasn’t a Christian at the time. In fact, I was far from it.

But then my dad said this, “Laurie, when I die, I want people to remember me for who I am. I don’t want anyone turning me into something I’m not.”

“Okay,” I responded slowly, thinking it was a bit of an odd remark.

“It’s just that, when someone dies,” he continued, “people only want to talk about the good parts of that person. But that’s not who they really are. There are good parts and bad parts to everyone.”

He has a point, I thought. Yet, I had no way of knowing the significance of what he was saying.

A month later, my dad died. And the conversation that we had over dinner became engraved upon my heart. I tried to honor my dad’s request to be known as he was. It weighed heavy on my heart as I wrote his eulogy a few short days after his death. And each time I spoke or wrote about his life and death, it was on my mind. Still, the significance of his words alluded me––that is, until I began to write more about my past and, more importantly, about the beauty and redemption that God has created out of it. It was then that I knew without a doubt that the Holy Spirit encouraged my dad to speak those words to me, over a decade before I needed them, to give me the freedom to write with the transparency needed to help others.

I have no desire to write about myself. But I cannot keep quiet about what God has done in and through my life. I have learned a lot about the heart of Jesus. He truly is our Redeemer. And it is Jesus’ desire to lift us out of our despair and our pain and bring us to a new place. A place that is rich in beauty and blessing.

Yet, God has shown me that in order to get there, we must choose, through the empowerment of the Holy Spirit, to say yes. To say yes, my Lord, I will follow You. Yes, my Lord, I will obey Your commands. For, it is when we lay down our fear, our pride, and our resistance that we are able to experience life as He intended. The life that Jesus died for us to have. [Tweet that]

This is where redemption happens.

It is only through the grace of God that I chose to say yes. I chose to follow Jesus when He told me that it was time to love and forgive the man who murdered my dad. What happened after this, was nothing less than a work of God. He brought good out of evil, love out of hate, and peace out of despair.

Still, this story began with a tragedy. With the loss of my dad. And I have to be honest––there is a part of me doesn’t want this to be my story. I don’t want to be a murder victim’s daughter. But I am. What I want is to have my dad back. I want to be able to feel him pull me abruptly toward him to receive one of his great big bear hugs as he often liked to do.

But that’s not the story God intended to tell. And I know in my heart that the stories God creates are far richer than anything we can conceive of in our finite minds.

The story God has created is a story of the grace, mercy, healing, forgiveness, and redemption that can only be given through Jesus. But ultimately, it’s a story that displays the glory of our amazing God. And I pray that it encourages you to say yes to whatever Jesus calls you to and to embark on your own Jesus-led story.

{The fruit of obedience is bountiful if we will simply obey.}

How has God blessed you when you were obedient to His word or His call?

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To read more about my journey toward forgiveness, read Freedom Through Grace or {Redemption} Your Testimony May Have Saved a Life.