In the Beginning

written by Deborah Oakley

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It was early 2004, and I’d been begging God for some time to set me free from the job I was at.  I was managing a Software Engineering Department at a fast-growing manufacturing firm, and the stress was HIGH.  Today, it’s not unusual for me to ask God where He wants me to go and then do what He says (although I complain a lot when He doesn’t tell me what I want to hear).  That’s been my normal for quite a long time now; however, back then, that mode of operation was a new thing for me.  Let me explain …  No, there’s too much.  Let me sum up.

I grew up in a conservative Christian home, mostly in churches where you followed rules but nothing really exciting happened in The Body ‘cause everyone knew all the cool stuff ended during New Testament times.  Current-day Christianity meant we had fire insurance to escape Hell, and so just had to grit our teeth, follow the rules, get some other folks to say The Prayer and get their fire insurance, and wait to be snatched out of The Tribulation.  Got baptized the first time when I was 6 or 7, couple of years later became the victim of some pretty tough bullying and whatnot in school (back when no one did anything about it), which lasted for the rest of elementary and middle school and caused all sorts of issues for me.

Started giving in to my anger and rebelling on the inside in 8^th grade, but didn’t let it show until I graduated high school and left home.  Went hog wild for the next decade, God stalked me the whole time, and I finally gave in to Him about the time I turned 29.  Got remarried shortly after that (had already married and divorced once during my Dark Years) and tried being a good girl.  Which, since I didn’t know any better, meant gritting my teeth and trying, mostly, to follow all those rules I’d run away from years before.  I wasn’t much better at it that time around, either.

Oh.  I gotta tell you a story about God’s stalking during the Dark Years.  I periodically had these dreams that Jesus came back and I wasn’t ready, which tend to be pretty scary dreams.  The last dream I had like that was TERRIFYING!  This doesn’t really have all that much to do with my journey, but it was a masterpiece of a nightmare, and masterpieces should be shared.  Remember, this was a dream, so I was living it and it was real to me.

There were a group of us running through a narrow hall in Hell.  I was the last in the line of runners, and the devil was chasing us.  I knew that, if he managed to get his hands on us, we were goners and would be trapped and tormented in Hell forever.  We were running as fast and hard as we could, heading to a safe room that was ahead of us, and the devil was slowly gaining on us.  We finally made it to a door with a cross on it, and we burst into the room and slammed the door shut just milliseconds before he got to us.  The room was filled with all sorts of holy artifacts:  crosses, chalices, and other religious paraphernalia.  It wasn’t a large room and there was only the one door to get in or out, but at least we’d made it.  I can’t begin to describe to you the teary relief I felt at having so narrowly escaped.  Just as the fear of being captured began to lose its grip on us, the door slammed open.  It was the devil.  I couldn’t see his features – just the silhouette of him, backlit by flames.  He started laughing.  “You think these THINGS are going to save you?”  Then he stepped in toward us, and I woke up with my heart trying to jump out of my throat.  Never felt that kind of terror before or since in my life.  Wasn’t long after that I gave my life back to God.  Or maybe that was when I finally actually gave it to Him for the first time.  Or perhaps I started giving it to him when I was 6, but it took until I was 29 to finish.  I don’t really know.

Anyway, I spent the next decade living what a lot of people call a Christian life.  Don’t lie.  Don’t cheat.  Don’t steal.  Go to church.  Occasionally.  Try not to cuss anymore.  At least, not too much.  My daily focus, though, was still on career, marriage, finances, etc.  God was there, but He was a Sunday side note.  Could have been a sad story, except God hadn’t stopped stalking me.  (At least He wasn’t scaring me this time around.)  Looking back, I can clearly see when He gave me my wake-up call (although I didn’t realize it at the time).

In 1997, my parents gave me the first 2 books of The Left Behind series for my birthday.  In all honesty, I didn’t think the books were all that great, and I don’t really buy that particular eschatological theory.  Still, I read every book in the series.  There was a theme running through the story that caught my attention and had me in its grip:  urgency.  The Rapture had occurred, the Tribulation was in full force, and the seven-year clock was ticking.  The main characters had set aside all distractions and were entirely focused on following God and longing for Jesus to come back.  I remember thinking at the time how cool it would be if I knew there were only 7 years left, and I could set aside all the other stuff and focus on Him.  Right on the heels of that came the idea that that was probably how we were supposed to be living. When I look back at my Self then, all I can say is, “DUH!  You think?”

As the years progressed, He steadily made me more aware of Him, and He gently and subtly drew me closer to Him.  Back to 2004.  I had reached a point where my life and my service to God were no longer compartmentalized into separate things; they were all of one piece.  So, although I’d had other job opportunities, and although I’d wanted out of the job I was at for some time, I’d been praying about it and didn’t move until He said to.  In June 2004, I took a job at a small engineering firm.  I was excited about it.  I knew some of the people who worked there, it seemed like a tight-knit group, the stress levels seemed much lower than what I had at my previous job, and I knew God had given me the okay to work there.  I thought I’d finally reached Happily Ever After (heretofore known as HEA).

Not.  That place doesn’t actually exist on this side of the grass.  Why do we keep expecting to find it here?

I know now why He had me move, and it wasn’t HEA.  In fact, what He had in mind for me were things that never would have occurred to me to think about.  I’ve found that’s usually the way He is with me.  He says, “Do this.”  I do it, not knowing why He said to, and I try to imagine what the outcomes will be.  Every single time, the actual outcome is something that never would have occurred to me.  I’ve adopted an axiom:  “If I can imagine it, that’s probably not it.”  I still try to imagine.  Why?  Because often things are hard, and it seems there’s no way out.  Doubt and Despair scrabble their claws in my brain and try to convince me to step off the path He’s laid out.  My imagination helps me wage war against them.  He said He can do anything and He can make paths where there are none, so I choose to believe.  I use my imagination to think up possible positive outcomes.  My imagination keeps the flames of hope alive.

Romans 5:3-5 Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

The new job in 2004 marked me walking through a door to a whole new world.  It wasn’t the job itself that made this change.  God simply said, “It’s time.  And now, for something completely different.”

I’ll tell you about that next time.

Next Series Post:  He Flipped a Switch

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