I would sit with the stubbornness of a child
Dragging down my face, a question on my lips,
“Who was Jesus? How did he save us?”

I only received scoffs in return,
Disbelief as busy adults said “What did he do?
Be serious.”
They never understood that I was.
 
Unaware of His presence and His love,
I curled into myself, wondering why I always
Failed at satisfying the standard I had
Carefully constructed in my head—
 It turned out, I was only waiting
For God’s perfect timing.

It was slow--a sluggish trial
Of him holding out his hand, and mine
Hovering tentatively, not fully convinced.
But He spoke through those around me,
He filled the emptiness I had walked around with
Like a book with blank pages, chapters filled in
At the binding. He gave me a community,
Something that was completely unfamiliar
And alien considering the isolation I was so
Accustomed with. Gradually, I turned to face him.
I talked to him under rain-soaked trees and rooms
Infused with the fear of darkness, and he offered
The resolute peace of his love and guidance—
 
 I will never forget the day of extended worship,
One voice flowing through the music, settling
Itself in my heart as I stood alcoved in a hallway,
A borrowed guitar clutched close, eyes full of tears
I was suddenly becoming unafraid of. That anxiety,
That defining phobia of never being enough,
He began to heal as I took his hand and let Him
Give me the strength to persevere through
Something I didn’t believe myself capable of.
 
In that moment, leading up to it, and even now,
When I know there is so much left for Him
To teach me, I feel the unburdening weight
Of his purpose for me—his sovereignty
Over the life I tried to control, year
 After year, with my own understanding.

I will never know everything, but I finally
Comprehend what Jesus did for me--
And even with my limited experience,

I will continue to seek a relationship with Him,
Unhindered by my self-righteousness
And fear of failing to fulfill his plan.

Jesus truly is Everything.