Every Tuesday evening I would ride the Metro to the end of the orange line where the pastor’s oldest daughter would pick me up and drive me out to the their home. I would join them for dinner then spend a couple of hours discussing Scripture and doctrine with my father’s pastor.  At the end of the evening, one of the pastor’s other adult children would give me a ride back to my father’s home,  about a two hour round-trip drive.  This family was generous, kind and dedicated to helping me see God and His people in a different way than ever before.

After a couple of months, my eyes and mind began to open to accepting that God’s Word and the edicts of the Governing Body of Jehovah’s Witnesses were NOT one in the same.  The Bible could be interpreted and understood in many different ways.  In fact, it could even be QUESTIONED!  I could wrestle with the verses and their meaning, and God didn’t mind.  According to His own book, He wanted me to meditate on what I read, and not just accept what a man said about His truths.  This was incredibly liberating!

I had spent my entire life terrified of questioning authority.  I expected punishment for thinking outside the box, and intentionally put myself in situations of all-out rebellion to receive the harsh judgement I believed I deserved, whether or not my outward behavior seemed to warrant such pain. I suffered incredible shame, not for what I DID but for what I believed I WAS…a dirty, terrible sinner who could never be good enough to be loved.

During my time meeting with this family, I learned that God, the Creator of the Universe and almighty, all-knowing sovereign king of everyone and everything, loves me so much that He gave up His Heavenly son just so I could be in His family.  Scripture didn’t dance around the truth, I am a sinner, but not because of my own colored past or what had been done to me, simply because I am human.  Yet, while I was struggling and suffering in my shame and self-hatred,  Jesus, His perfect son, took my punishment and washed me clean, so I would no longer have to fear His wrath or wallow in the filth of what those men did to me.  I no longer deserved to suffer, because He suffered in my place and gave me a new and perfect heart.  God bought me back from those evil men and from my own self-sabotage with His sacrifice.  How wonderful! How marvelous! How far from a dog and its vomit could I possibly be???!!!!

AND…

Not only did He give me the most amazing gift anyone could ever receive, the title of Child of the King, He also gave me an earthly reminder that He loves me.

It never even dawned on me that eventually the same pastor’s son was giving me a ride home each week.  I would listen to him tell me about his job as an accountant for a company that did…I don’t know what…because I wasn’t really listening.  I was SO clueless!  In my mind, nice guys didn’t like dirty girls like me.  So I would sit there next to him, week after week, never even realizing what God was offering me.

Until that night at a Billy Joel concert, when I finally had that “Ah-ha!” moment.  I looked up at this good, kind man and had a glimpse of how amazing he was, and that maybe, just maybe, I could let a man like this into my heart.  Maybe, just maybe, I deserved to be loved by a man who didn’t want to hurt me.  Maybe, just maybe, God wanted me to be happy.

So, in answer to my mom’s statement, “I hope he’s worth it;” yes he is, and so am I, because I am not a dog, I am a daughter of the King!