My story

There is an awesome song out there by Big Daddy Weave called "My Story." Every time I hear it, I have to pause and think for a few minutes about just how awesome my God is.

I've shared on this blog before of my fascination with people's stories. I love it when people take time out to tell me their past and what they have been through. When I worked my previous customer service job, many customers stopped in and would begin to talk to me. Before long, they were telling me their story. Sometimes it left me in amazement. Sometimes it broke my heart. Sometimes I walked around the counter and gave them a big hug when they finished and invited them to my church. I shared my own story once or twice with the people who asked. I hope mine sounded different to them.

The lyrics of that song walk you through my life, and, I think, every true believer's life. To tell you anything about myself goes back to Jesus Christ.

"If I told you my story, you would hear Hope that wouldn't let go. If I told you my story, you would hear Love that never gave up. If I told you my story, you would hear Life, but it wasn't mine."

I wish I could take all of you back to the place where I first experienced the pure love of Jesus. Even though I was just a toddler, I remember the moments very clearly. I was at a school chapel service, and our school principal had just finished speaking about how God loves us, no matter what we have done. She led us all in a prayer of repentance, and within seconds, I was speaking in tongues.

I remember curling into my Kindergarten teacher and just crying and speaking in tongues. They had to carry me back to class after chapel service ended and I spoke in tongues until I fell asleep for nap time. I remember the other kids staring at me, and I remember not even being able to care what they were thinking. I was 4, and the emotion of that moment was so real to me.

That experience was amazing, but it was bought for me on a cross thousands of years before. 

"If I should speak, then let it be of the grace that is greater than all my sin, of when justice was served and when mercy wins, of the kindness of Jesus that draws me in. Oh to tell you my story, is to tell of Him!"

You may say, "But how much grace did four-year-old Ariqua need?" But I did. I was born in sin and shapen in iniquity. I was old enough even then to know that I had done things that weren't good. I knew I disobeyed my parents sometimes. I definitely had lied a few times. I needed forgiveness for that. However, before all of that, I was born a sinner, as is each human who enters this world. Everyone that is, except Jesus Christ. He gave his perfect, sinless life as a ransom so that you and I could claim His cleanliness as our own. My story is nothing without His sacrifice and the gift of salvation!

"If I told you my story, you would hear victory over the enemy. If I told you my story, you would hear freedom that was won for me. If I told you my story, you would hear Life that overcame the grave!"

I grew beyond four-years-old and faced many things growing up. Through it all, I remained in awe of the presence of God. I know Jesus was keeping me close to His heart. I did almost nothing to deserve His love. I only read my Bible sparingly. I hardly ever took time to commit to a daily prayer life. I sought him weekly in an altar and sang songs of praise to Him whenever I could. I know that young children depend almost solely on their parent's relationship with God. I was blessed that mine upheld the full doctrine in our home while I was growing up.

However, the day came when it was up to me. That came during my 18th year. All of a sudden, there wasn't pressure from my parents to go to church, and I had a decision to make. I decided to follow hard after God. I have asked myself many times why, and I think it is best explained with this line from that song, "If I told you my story, you would hear Love that never gave up."

Jesus knew what I was going to face at 18, and He allowed His sweet love to remain constant in my life during all of those years leading up to my decision. He loved me loudly throughout those years to make sure I knew who He was and what He would offer me when the time came to decide.

I went to church for weeks on end without my family. If the doors were open, I was there, even if I sat on the "family pew" alone. I went to Texas Bible College because I knew there was a call on my life and that I wanted to be a minister of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I wanted to be effective in helping the church, and I wanted to be effective in reaching the lost. I married my husband and for the first time in my life I experienced full time ministry.

My story is still being written, and there is much that God will still do with my life, but I said all that to say this: 

You don't have to backslide to have a story.

When you live for Jesus, your story isn't really about you anyway. Your story is about Him. However He chooses to write your story, you need to let Him. Don't take the pen out of His hand.

I never imagined that I would be where I am today. If you had told me when I received the Holy Ghost that I would be doing all of these things, you would have overwhelmed my little mind. That's not how God works (which is sometimes frustrating). He develops your life like a story. If yours doesn't look that great, you have taken the pen out of His hand too soon.

If you look at your story and can't find anything in it that you know was God's doing, you haven't let Him write your story. God doesn't share glory with anyone, and most of the time, He writes stories that are only possible with Him.

That song ends with a throwback to one of my favorite hymns, "Blessed Assurance." The words simply say, "This is my story: Praising my Savior all the day long."

God deserves our praise and adoration, and He created us all the way back in the beginning to praise Him. You were made to worship Him. As you go through your life and he writes your story, there will be days when you face something bigger than you and you get overwhelmed. I speak from experience when I say that if you will leave the pen in God's hands, you will call that the best part of your story in a few years time.

When I moved to New Jersey from Louisiana, it was the hardest decision I had faced in my 19 years of living. I left behind my family and everything I had known up to that point. I dumpster dived for boxes to pack my things in, packed them up, and with the help of 2 friends loaded them and shipped them to my boyfriend's house. I packed anything breakable and enough clothes to get me through until the boxes arrived into my 2-seater MR2 spyder. I kissed my big sister and my niece goodbye and drove, by myself the 26 hours to the east coast.

I'll be honest. I was scared out of my mind.

"God, I know this is you and not me, but what are you doing?"

I'll never forget stopping to get my oil changed 30 minutes from my house. The mechanic asked me where I was going, and when I told him, he shook his head. "Not on those tires, you aren't. You'll be lucky to make it a few hundred miles."

I got in my car and started driving and praying. Rick started calling all the tire shops along I-20 that he could. He found out pretty quickly that my tires were a unique size and not many places stocked them. Finally, he found me a place to stop an hour or so away. I stopped and pulled in to a very sketchy looking mechanic shop. It may have been fine, but to this young girl traveling alone, something didn't feel right. I drove two blocks down the street and saw a much cleaner looking shop. I pulled in and told the lady at the desk what I needed. She looked them up on her computer and said in surprise, "Actually, we have those! 2 of them in stock, and they are $75 apiece."

The man who put them on was a Christian and said he would be praying for me as I traveled. I look back on that whole experience and I don't even really remember how stressed I was. I remember the feeling of peace that washed over me as I realized that God had me right in the center of His palm. I knew right then that all was well and that He would take care of me.

"This is my story..."

Let Him write your story however He chooses to. Don't take the pen out of His hand, and remember that your praise is part of your story.