I “asked Jesus into my heart” when I was 10 years old. Then I left him there for about 15 years.
There were no outward signs of “fruit” in my life. Because my Jesus was dormant. He was there, the seed was planted, but it was unactivated. Without root. Alive, but sleeping.
And then one day the damned thing woke up. My little Jesus seed stretched his atrophied arms, wiped the sleep blindness from his pretty blue eyes, and then he stood up and looked around at all the other sleeping seeds. And he was pissed.
(My friend once accurately described this stage in one’s faith as “bear mode”. The hibernation is over and has left us an unpleasant combination of both hungry and grumpy.)
So I did what all good, newly awakened seeds do. I pulled up my Christianity soapbox, lifted my Jesus megaphone to my holy lips, and proceeded to play the role of prophet in the lives of all those who would come near enough to hear.
“We’re to be known by our love!” I yelled. “Don’t you know people are starving? Don’t you know people are dying?!” I screamed. “You guys suck so hard!” was the cliff notes to my every sermon.
To speed my growth, the theology of my church dumped a big pile of fertilizer on my convictions. Except, you know, the other word for fertilizer.
Soon, my own indignation at the injustice of the world, the “laziness” of Christians, turned around to poison my own roots. Guilt was my fuel. Righteous anger was my sun. My furious little plant shot up like an arrow, trying desperately to bear fruit.
And then it hit a ceiling.
Slowly, like a confused mime, I felt my little leafy arms around the glass enclosure where I had been planted. No one had told me about this. No one had told me that I was boxed in.
I couldn’t grow any taller, bear any more fruit, without bending, conforming to fit my glass box. “This is normal” the church told me. “Don’t worry, this is where God lives. In the box.
The church was my greenhouse. It had given me just enough of the proper, safe conditions for fast and early growth. But then when my roots were ready to grow deep, when my branches longed for the freedom of the sky, I was pruned in the name of Jesus, so that I would never grow out of the box.
So my growth spurt was tempered. I withered a bit. My rotten fruit fell to the ground, unmatured.
I occasionally pressed my face close to the glass, touching, feeling, running my hands along the surface. Hoping, testing curiously, desperately for weak spots, for a patch of unfiltered light.
But mostly I just stood there, hunched over. Stunted.
Please tell me this is part one of the rest of the story. I can’t stand to think that the plant never gained it’s freedom.
LorIe Greer recently posted..Elvis, Ingrid, and Jesus
I would love to hear the rest of the story as well!
Aprille recently posted..On a snowy Sunday morning
Beautiful description of the way I felt for so many years but didn’t know why
This is awesome! This was me. I didn’t know I was in a box, perhaps because the walls were glass. That stifling feeling makes me gasp for air now, for the me then. It’s true that there was some safety in that box. I think that’s why it can be so hard to let go and to move forward in trusting Jesus to go where he wants us to go and be who he originally planned us to be. Great post!
Kate Hall recently posted..Oh No He Di’int Gimme That Gift
Thank you for sharing. How true that is and how far I want to run, but I sit uncontent and please those around me.
Kristin Kraabel recently posted..Bare: FMF
I’m looking for part two of this story also! I hate boxes that keep God, ourselves, our lives compressed into someone else’s walls. My struggle has been trying to figure out the difference between what is real truth and what is opinion or interpretation or cultural/traditional way. What do I know for sure? That God is real, and Christ died for me, and that He rose again, and that the Holy Spirit is working in my life. What else do I know? The older I get, the more I realize that the answer is: not much. Thank you for sharing this story. I’m definitely sharing it on Friday!
Lyssa recently posted..Harmony Finds the Guitar
We must spread the word of the Lord and how he suffered on the cross so that we may be washed clean of our sins!
Thanks for sharing this is a great story… I do hope you post more because I would be interested in reading.
Phil recently posted..There’s A Cause To Fight For
Really beautiful, Jessica. I’ve seen this so many times. Lived it. Probably will continue to repeat this process for the rest of my life, though I can’t fully blame the church for burying me in shi – I mean fertilizer. I do that plenty good to myself and I’m sure I’ve done it to others in the name of Jesus. I’m always brought back to that Jesus parable about the little lost sheep, the one he left the other 99 to go find. That stupid stubborn sheep was already part of his flock and it decided it would be better off on its own. Then I cry and reach up my withered leaves and take in the life he freely offers, and I begin the process again.
Kate Elwell recently posted..Mail Call Monday
Beautifully written… I look forward to more… <3
I wrote an essay on this whole idea of God-in-a-box that was far less poetic and personal than this one. I hope you continue this, Jess. Because we are the ones who are given the power to choose whether or not the Jesus seed stays in the box or reaches for the sky. Would love to hear your choice. . .
Diana Trautwein recently posted..Bare: A 5 Minute Friday, Embellished + A Photo Essay
Isn’t it amazing that a “dormant” Jesus can still awake and revolutionize our lives? That’s grace, even if it’s not a clean, safe, simple process.
ed cyzewski recently posted..Did God Do That? Why It’s Hard to Write About God’s Sovereignty
You write so powerfully. I love both of these images, the dormant seed, the greenhouse, the different ways we quench the spirit of God in our lives. I have done the megaphone shouting mainly first, followed by the dormant seed (hmm – this analogy s not really working for my life experience, is it…?) and I know that feeling of being hunched over. Thanks for this (coming to you via Amber) x
Hi
Oh, my heart leaped when I read your post. I relate to almost everything you have experienced. I am just so GRATEFUL that I have finally escaped that greenhouse box and allowed my roots to grow deep into the fertile soil of His wondrous love. Glad you linked-up with us at Amber’s. I hope that you have escaped too!
Much love
Mia
Mia recently posted..The Narrow Path to Life
I know Scripture says we become a new (wo)man at conversion, but it really requires a process and time, doesn’t it?, for anyone to be able to tell. Visiting from Amber’s.
Brandee recently posted..The Path
Hiya, Ive come here via concretewords. I find this piece very powerful. Angry. Angry at having been angry perhaps. Thank you for being so honest.
Liz Eph recently posted..A thought, concretewords, : ‘The Cupboard’
I have no words but YES!! This is EXACTLY what happened to me in a series of churches. I don’t know what is coming next.
Genevieve recently posted..The next stage, like it or not