I remember

I have been struggling to remember when I was saved. Most people I talk to remember it clearly...and it is such a momentous occasion...that I felt awkward with the thought that I could not remember.

But I do.

I was saved when I was not even old enough to truly understand what it meant. All I knew is that I wanted to be loved. And I was told that Jesus loved me no matter what, for who I am.

I don't remember what age I was, somewhere around 11 years old, definitely before 6th grade.

I went to AWANA on Wednesday nights with a nice lady from down the road. I met her through my babysitter, I think my babysitter had a crush on her older son.

Anyway, I remember her face, she was always smiling and very very kind. Though the kool aid she made didn't taste very sweet.

Anyway, the significance of remembering when I was saved is this:

Satan has been working for the past 20 years to beat me down and dissuade me from my faith...and he almost succeeded. But the holy spirit was in me the whole time...I had just been in denial.

I can think upon numerous occassions that God was knocking on my door, keeping Himself in my thoughts, so that I couldn't totally ignore him...until one day when I would finally surrender.

Diverse City

I usually listen to WMUZ while I'm driving. It's a local Christian radio station, and quite frankly, I am now more familiar with Christian music than I have ever thought I would be. Which is strange for someone who four years ago would not listen to Christian music if her life depended on it.

File that under the number one reason when, when I spent three months of my life homeless, I would not admit myself and Kimi to a shelter for displaced women and children...they didn't allow secular music. Yes, I am that stubborn.

So...now that I have revealed myself as either a hypocrit or convert...[or maybe a lot less foolish]

Friday morning on the way to work, I was surprised once more by the panache of the morning D.J.'s. They are sassy and sometimes shocking for Christian radio, but their style has given me new insight. For instance Christianity isn't just for white middle class suburbanites who drive minivans and drink lattes.This is the thinking that I need to counter every time I go to church, since the church I currently attend is very very white.

Friday morning they played the "Secret Stash" song. The song: Diverse City by Toby Mac. Which is every bit of funk that you could swing your hips at on a Friday morning sitting in bumper to bumper traffic.

I turned up the volume, opened the windows, and soaked in the message:

They call us Diverse City, we're colorful good
It's like a freak show in your neighborhood
So, if you wanna praise you can come on down
Cause this freak show's leaving the ground
Up, up and away, baby we don't play, maybe you thought you was done for the day

He said, she said, I said this, that you can't get away from your moment of bliss
Stirring, we'll lure you in and we'll make room for the shade of skin
Short ones, tall ones, skinny ones, bigger, love is the gun and we pullin' that trigger
So you send me and I'll send you hope in the form of a new tattoo
Mine is the shiny city on a hill and yours, of course, is the colors that fill itWe'll take you high,
we'll take you higher

Now come to the city where you can praise
If you're black, if you're white, if you're yellow or grey
In the morning, in the night, anytime of dayWhat's that place - Diverse City
With curls in your hair and braids on the side
Straight shake'em loose, just come on and ride
We're a body with parts, like you and me
Together we make diversity

You bring the heart, I'll bring the soulI'll bring the flag, you bring the pole
We'll fly it high so the whole world knows
The dream of a king 'bout to unfold
We 'bout to do this thing for realDiverse City got mass appeal
So put your hand in the hand of mine
And we'll spread this love like dandelions

After the song ended I realized that there is something integrally wrong with how I have been praising Him. Christianity isn't always a comfort zone. Church isn't a safe harbor to cling to every Sunday morning--sometimes it's dangerous and scary. Spreading the word is overcoming challenges like color of skin, and different ways of life. I had no idea that I was conforming. Now that I do realize, I am open to new possibilities. I want to be part of that Diverse City.