Egyptian Nights

There is a night from my freshman year of college--a time before I knew Christ--that jabs out of my pool of memories a bit further than the rest.  Though it was almost four years ago now, my friends still refer to it as "that night" because somehow it was so much crazier than the rest (and if you know anything about what my life was like then, you might know that's sort of hard to believe).

It was a night when I woke up the next morning actually scared.  Scared of consequences that I might have to face.  Of this road that I was on.  Of myself.  Though it went into the crazy "Alyssa Story" file with the thousands of other parties, I remember this was the only time I ever woke up the next morning and thought, I can't do this anymore.  (Obviously I didn't heed this warning from my own heart, as it took me another ten months to commit my life to Christ, but I think that fact really gives a clear indication for how intense this particular night actually was.)

What is really insane is that the person who now disciples me texted me while I was out that night.  She had never texted me at midnight on a Friday before and has never done so since.

I don't think that was a coincidence.

I think that Jesus was trying to get ahold of me... even then.  Even in the midst of this incredibly crazy situation.  Loving me through this time when I didn't even love myself.

For some reason, I found myself telling bits and pieces of this story to this said mentor today.  And after I said what I had opened my mouth to say I sat silent for some time, just looking out the window.  Remembering the extent of my slavery to sin.  Remembering the true distance I was from Jesus.

Remembering how lost I really was.

As I found myself in the midst of thinking about that fateful November night, I could feel my heart break.  I wished I could reach out to that pre-Jesus Alyssa and hug her and beg her with tears in my eyes to stop.  Explain to her that there is a King who loves her and wants something better for her.

It's important for me to from time to time actually reflect on the place of slavery that Jesus has rescued me from.  When life gets full with ministry responsibilities and my own spiritual battle that I have to engage in daily, it's easy to feel overwhelmed and worn down and maybe even sometimes find myself longing for those Egyptian nights like the Israelites (though, praise be to God, those longings are becoming less frequent and less intense).

So I have to remember.

Remember where I've been delivered from.  Remember how lost I was.  Remember how my life was radically changed by the Gospel.  Remember that the only thing that really matters is that I'm living for Jesus.

When I can put things back into perspective after these moments of reflection, the only thing that makes sense is to devote my life to Him.  Why wouldn't I after all He's done for me?

After a few explanations of that night Robin asked me a question regarding my past and I answered it truthfully.  But behind that "yes" was a high magnitude of sadness.  I responded to her non-challently when what I wanted to do was to sit in that passenger seat and sob--in sorrow for my past and in joy for where Jesus has taken me.  Joy that I surely do not deserve.

When I remember in gruesome and shameful detail the pit that Jesus pulled me out from, it puts everything back into perspective.  I understand why I live my life daily for Him.  I understand why I can't see myself in any other career but college ministry.

And I truly believe that no temptation or fear or trial could ever pull me away from devoting it all to Christ.  He died for me.  Pursued me when I rejected Him over and over.  And is in the process of redeeming my life now.  My life ought to be an act of worship.  Nothing else makes sense.

It's easy to forget the extent of my past when my every day life is so normalized by my "Christian activities."  But as much as it pains me to actually look back, I have to.  It brings me to my knees.  It humbles me.  And when I feel overwhelmed by this calling on my life it simplifies my entire career into one Truth: It is all for Christ.