Grace
Illuminated
Chapter One
When did you get saved?
“Saved, from what?” was my initial response. This was not a question that entered my life
until I reached my early twenties. It wasn't that I had no idea that I needed a
saving, that I was a lost soul in a fallen world had been clearly evident to me
since childhood, and I was not even a church goer. Then there was the second part of the
question, “when?”. When…well, firstly I was not the one doing the saving so I
felt strongly that only my savior could answer that one, was not He the only
one who truly knew?
According to some, once saved always saved, you recite a
simple prayer and poof! Rescued from the fires of hell, salvation is yours. Really,
that’s it? This was a challenging concept for me, what of those who are just
paying lip service but in their heart, they do not truly believe? It could not
possibly all be wrapped up in one prayer in my opinion, could it really be that
simple? I did not pray the “Sinner’s prayer” until I was almost 30 years old,
but I know in my heart my Messiah saved me long before then and continues to
save me daily.
My family was “unchurched”, no services or religious
instruction for me unless I took the initiative and walked down myself, which
at the age of about 8 - I did. The local Methodists welcomed me with open arms,
this seemingly strange little girl from up the street, who was apparently
seeking something. My Grandmother, in whose home I resided most of my life, was
all about free-will when it came to relationship with God. Born at the height
of the dust-bowl in the midst of the great depression, she spent her youth as a
migrant farm worker in the southwest. At an early age she witnessed people fall
flat out on the floor at tent revivals writhing, spitting and mumbling
incoherently for hours at a time, handling snakes to prove they had been
“filled” with the spirit. These behaviors, my Grandmother said, did not seem to
testify to the Holy Spirit – but instead “scared the bejesus” out of her and
led her to stay away from “church”. Mahota Walker Salerno was raised a bible
believing Christian, her parents taught her it was not what proceeded from your
mouth but instead what fruits came from the work of your hand. “Feed those that
need feedin’, love those that need lovin’” is what her Father Benjamin Franklin
Walker recommended as true “Christian” behavior. Ben was a member of the
Choctaw tribe of Oklahoma and declared that his church was the woods and he
went there far more often than Sundays. The bible was a part of their daily
routine as a family; it was from this book that my Grandmother Mahota was
taught to read and write before she went to Kindergarten. They were followers
of Jesus Christ, but followers of organized religion they were not.
Quiet in her faith, Mahota would teach you if you had ears
to hear. It wasn't until I was a mother and began a study of the Old and New
Testaments myself that I discovered so much of what she shared in life, her
words of wisdom - were scripture. You had to choose to seek God for yourself;
there was never a time I was told what to believe or what truth was. And seek I
did, from the little girl who went down to Sunday school alone, I grew into an
agnostic adolescent - Jesus in my mind,
became way too narrow of a path, there had to be a broader gate – so I began to
look for a more profound and all-encompassing answer. In college, as a feminist
I was drawn to Goddess worship and the New Age earth religions, the duality of
God was appealing to me. When I was married at age 19, it was in a Christian
church, but I rewrote the ceremony and insisted that when we recited the Lord’s
Prayer we did not say “Our Father” but instead, “Our Creator”, as to not offend
the divine feminine. I became a practicing Wiccan, dipped my toe into Druidism
and even read the Satanic bible- just to see what all the fuss was about. It didn't take very long for me to deduce that I was worshiping creation- not the
Creator, and yes maybe gods, but not God (with a big “G”).
The world of secular humanism held no appeal for me; the
answer there said I was the same as an animal, the result of a series of a
million accidents that yielded “life”. If God does not exist, then there is
nothing special about human beings. I knew in my bones that I was not just primordial
ooze, only a random collection of atoms with no greater purpose. Everything within me cried out that this idea
was wrong, I had no doubt that there was a spirit within me that said I was
destined for more, that I was wonderfully and fearfully MADE. By the age of 25, I had made an examination of
all the world’s major religions and most of the minor ones as well. A similar pattern had begun to emerge, they
were based upon works – how “good” could you be – how many rules could you
follow. There is no grace in Islam, Hinduism or Buddhism. My revelation was
that all of the religions could be wrong but only one could be right.
In my youth, my Grandmother had quietly introduced me to the
God-Man, at this point in my journey she encouraged me to take a second look at
Jesus Christ. Mahota encouraged me to seek the real man not the caricature that
was created by the church that came after Him, instructing me to not accept the
misrepresentation of God by religion. “But in vain they do worship me, teaching
for doctrines the commandments of men.” (Matthew 15:9)
I was not one who
could just believe blindly. It may be the case that blessed are those who have
not seen and yet believed, (John 20:29) but I was a lot like the doubting
Thomas. How could we know that this man had really existed, fulfilled
prophecies and was God on earth? Claims so incredible must have evidence, that
I had to go on faith alone was unacceptable to me. It did not take that long
for me to see that God Himself has given us sufficient reason to believe. I do
not believe in Jesus Christ because It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling, I believe because the
circumstantial evidence is overwhelming that He lived, was crucified and then
rose from the dead - the only one in all the recorded history of mankind to
pull that off.
Dearest
Reader, the reality is we are each of us walking corpses. Whether you have been
given a clean bill of health or a terminal diagnosis, when you leave that
Doctor’s office you could get hit by a bus – no encore. No one can live forever; all will die. No one can escape the
power of the grave. (Psalm 89:48) The fierce urgency of now compels me to write
this to you. We live in a world today that tells us to live
for the moment, that there is no absolute truth or right and wrong. I’m here to
tell you that is a lie. One man was born to testify to this truth, everyone who
belongs to the truth listens to His voice. (John 18:37) Can you hear it today? He speaks to
you, it is no mistake that you are reading these words; He is calling your
name :)
1 Corinthians 2: 1-4; And when I came to you, my
brothers, I did not come with wise words of knowledge, putting before you the
secret of God. For I had made the
decision to have knowledge of nothing among you but only of Jesus Christ on the
cross. And I was with you without
strength, in fear and in doubt. And in my preaching there
were no honeyed words of wisdom, but I was dependent on the power of the Spirit
to make it clear to you:
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