A Piece of My Story: Grace

I finished the book of Matthew this morning in tears. I don’t deserve the life and the love that Jesus gives me. After reading, I suddenly felt a huge tug on my heart to share part of My Story with you. In sharing this, my only hope is for you to receive a glimpse of Jesus’ great grace in my life. For you to see a glimpse of the way He never stops pursuing the ones He loves.

About two years ago I found myself at a concert among a sea of people I didn’t know. I had drunk a lot of alcohol before the concert had started. Standing there in the grass, I was close to losing all of my senses.

I couldn’t help but think: I have to get out of here, I have to leave, I want to go home.

I remember feeling alone… so alone. The alcohol had started to wear off and the loneliness started to creep in. I felt it like never before.

So I ran… started running home.


About two hours later, I found myself walking out in the middle of four lanes of traffic…..

And before I knew it, I felt arms grabbing my body and pulling me back from the road and into a car. 

I started crying.

Who was this person that had grabbed me? Why was someone trying to take me away from the (very long) journey I had yet in front of me to get home? 

 I soon recognized the arms of the person that had grabbed me. They were safe, loving arms that picked me up and rescued me from death. They were the arms of my mother. My flesh couldn’t help but feel so mad that she found me like this, a drunken mess, but my spirit felt so safe and so sound. I wasn’t okay. But I was going to be okay.


I woke up the next morning around 6 am laying in the familiarness of my bed.

What happened to me? How did I get here? Why am I letting alcohol destruct me to the point of almost allowing it to kill me? 

 I walked downstairs to find my sweet mother sleeping on the couch, guarding the doors of our house during the night to protect me from escaping out into the deep, dark world again.

She woke to my presence that had filled the room…

“I’m sorry momma…” I cried. “So so sorry for all that I did last night. I don’t even know what got me to this place in my life. This is not me… this is not what I was created for…”

All I could do to rid the pain of shame and confusion and sorrow was walk out the doors leading to my back porch. My tired legs treaded to a table in the back of my yard. I soon found myself climbing on top of the table and laying there. Allowing the stillness of morning to seep into my soul.

My neck lifted up to the sky, staring at the sun that was starting to rise… I was soon left in awe of Jesus’ beautiful sunrise that morning. The sky was breathtaking.  It was lit up in almost every color of the rainbow.

In that moment,  I felt peace… For the first time in years. It was the first memory in which I truly felt myself in the presence of God. The God who had been begging, screaming for my attention. The God who I had said no to many, many times until now.

Laying on that white plastic table, I realized I didn’t have to run from Him anymore… instead I should start running Home to Him.

He is Home.  

He is my Home.

Jesus saved me from dying that night. Yes, I had many consequences the next day that were hard to bear, hard to wrap my mind around. But I was alive… I was breathing. And instead of death, Jesus gave me life. He gave me the opportunity to choose Him. Live in love. Walk hand in hand with the One who died a painful death just to know me.

The saving sunrise that morning was only a small glimpse of the reckless, loving pursuit Jesus has had on my heart. It started at the cross where Jesus died the excruciating death that I deserve. The kind of death that we all deserve. But He keeps pursuing, never stops pursuing me each day.

There is no greater love than the love of my Savior. He chooses me again and again and again and again.

And to you, who is reading this, he chooses you. Do you believe this?  I dare you to sit in this question and truly think… has Jesus ever knocked on the door of your heart before? When will you be ready to open up?

And if you have opened the door to your heart to Jesus, it is my prayer that you would remember his unchanging grace in your life today.


Matthew 27:50-54:

“And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit.

And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And the earth shook, and the rocks were split. The tombs also were opened. And many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised, and coming out of the tombs after his resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many. When the centurion and those who were with him, keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were filled with awe and said, “Truly this was the Son of God!” 


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1 thought on “A Piece of My Story: Grace

  1. This was an awesome story of w hat brought you to Jesus and the love of Jesus. I love Jesus I have opened my heart to him and my arms as wide as they can open .He knows my heart and how much I love and when I open my arms he wraps his arms around me with A whole bunch of people mostly family and gives us all a giant hug . I just pray and say thank you .

    Liked by 1 person

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