To the man who spoke to me about Jesus when I was so skeptical.
The man who told me to read the book of John first.
The man who sent me the handwritten letter witnessing to me.
The man who was standing behind me, whose face I saw when I stood up from the altar and turned…
A changed girl, forever,
Wordgirl is quiet.
She has no words to convey the magnitude of her thankfulness.
I remember lying on a carpeted kitchen floor as a bitter, angry 18-year-old,
Talking on the phone with this remarkable handsome man I met and liked,
And there was something about this man,
Something persuaded me to open up about the very private things I kept to myself regarding God.
His soft voice.
His temperate patient way.
His solid responses.
He was a safe place.
The memory returns powerfully and tears stream down my cheeks.
I was lost, then…
I was in trouble…
Now, I am grateful.
I don’t take this for granted.
I don’t take any of this lightly.
This is no misplaced hero worship.
You are human, a living soul of flaws and perfection mixed together,
But you knew the value of my soul before I did.
It was God who straightened what was twisted inside of me.
But it was you who said,
“There’s someone I want to introduce you to.”.
Nothing will ever change that.