I am grateful that all I need is enough faith to touch the hem of His garment. (Mathew 9: 20-22)

I have spent a lot of time in church.  Church is a sacred place to me. It is where I was introduced to my Lord and Savior. It is where I learned what prayer is and it is where I was initially encouraged to practice seeking God. Most importantly though, it is where I first became acquainted with Him and began to participate in the deep, precious work that laid the foundation for my spiritual walk. In those early years of my faith, I would have told you I had a personal relationship with Jesus, and perhaps I did. I certainly experienced a portion of Him. But as I look back, it's clear that the portion I experienced was shallow compared to the God I encountered out of complete desperation- far from the pews of my church. The first time I experienced God in a way that was undeniable, I was on the floor in my bedroom in my last treatment center. I was broken, alone, and afraid. The pieces of my life were strewn about in a way that was impossible for me to make sense of. I felt stripped of everything that had become comforting to me. I was without direction, without stability, and without clarity. I was utterly lost. But although I had turned my face from God and could not feel His presence, I knew He was still with me, and I knew He was waiting. I had long since abandoned operating from a place of composure, and in a moment absent of restraint I allowed my undeniable and absolute anguish to pull me to my knees. From that place, kneeling amongst the shards of my broken life, I prostrated myself - emphatically desperate to feel any measure of His peace. I was in the proverbial desert aching for the sweet, life-saving water that only He can provide. There, on my knees, I reached out to Him in surrender and with heaving sobs from the pit of my belly I wept and cried out to God. I couldn't put together a sentence. In fact, I didn't say a thing. But He heard every word. I do not believe any prayer I say is for God- He already knows my prayers. I believe my prayers are to align my will with His; they are a way to prepare my heart so that I can become willing for Him to work through me. And that is exactly what He did. I got up off of that floor and for the first time in sixteen years I felt hope. And isn't that exactly what He is? He is hope. It was just a thread I pulled that day, but I grabbed hold of it and used it to weave together a day of sobriety and then another. And that is what I have done every day since. That thread from the hem of His garment has become the material and the fabric that I have used to weave together a life of peace, purpose, and hope. A life I would not have if not for His incomprehensible mercy, compassion, and grace. 

Philippians 2:12 "So then, my beloved, even as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but how much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling."