I was the mom of a toddler when a friend asked me repeatedly to join her at a community Bible study. I put her off for a couple of months, thinking that being 6 months pregnant was a pretty good excuse not to start anything new. However, since she was a good friend and I trusted her taste, I finally attended an introduction class.
How well I remember the haughty attitude I had as I filled out my enrollment card--though I certainly didn't recognize the haughtiness at the time. The lady who taught the introduction class left me sure she was talking mostly to people who didn't take the Bible seriously. I knew that couldn't be me. I'd read through the Bible, memorized verses, attended church all my life, and had even led a Bible study in college. I was the serious student in youth group, church camp, and had so many other notches in my Bible-wielding belt. But the lecture intrigued me, and I couldn't wait for my call to know if I was able to join a group.
I did get that call, and then I had my second child. Having two very young children humbled me. I wasn't as patient as I wanted to be, often meeting my husband at the door when he came home from work, wanting to bolt out of the house and away from the turmoil parenting two young children brought. What I didn't know then was that the turmoil was in my heart, not my house.
I continued to study the Bible. The first year we went through Matthew, and that was good and pretty familiar, although the teaching was more in depth than anything I'd ever heard before. The next year we studied the life of Moses. I struggled. The study was exciting, the questions were insightful, the teaching was solid, but I saw on the pages of Scripture a God I hadn't known very well. He was holy, He was fearful, and He dealt severely with the sin of His people. What kind of God wiped out thousands of His people at a time due to disobedience?
"What is it I've been taught to believe?" became my heart's cry. Due to circumstances beyond my control, this was an incredibly lonely time. It seemed I had no friends to turn to, no place to take the questions that seared my heart. If I did have a place to go, pride kept me from seeking help. I thought about other major religions and wondered if they had better answers, but had enough Bible knowledge to know there was no real truth in them. The truth of John 6:65 was already at work in my heart, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life." So I turned to the place that caused the conflict in my heart to rage the most: the pages of scripture.
I will never forget the day the words of Ps. 103 leapt from the pages of my Bible to still the war in my heart. "He made known his ways to Moses, his deeds to the people of Israel..." Those words caught my attention because I had seen firsthand how God had dealt with His people, and it didn't seem very good to me!
I continued to read, "The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us."
Looking back, I believe this was the moment I truly understood firsthand what it means to believe the gospel. I had been so burdened by motherhood because it had finally taught me what I had not yet comprehended: I was a sinner through and through. Although I had "accepted Christ as Savior" at age 5, I didn't understand what it was to have my sins removed by Him until I was 29 years old. In the life of Moses, I had seen the holiness of God and His wrath for sin--that is what had rocked my soul to the core. Yet even in that story, there were glimpses of God's compassion and kindness that pointed to the mercy of the cross. The passover (Ex. 13-14), the water from the rock (Ex. 17 and Nu. 20), the bronze snake (Nu. 21), and other events foreshadowed the work of Christ. My love for the Lord and His word was forever changed.
It has been my privilege over the years to open the pages of scripture with other women to study what it says. Yet I always do so with fear and trembling, lest they too, like I once did, meet the God of the Bible and desire to run the other way. The promise of John 10:27 is my sure hope as I lead others: "My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish, no one can snatch them out of my hand."
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