Part One: Irresistible Grace! (Leading up to 1995)

 By the time I reached the age of 34, I had been exposed to Christianity in various forms but had rejected all tenets of any type of religion.  Although I had several members of my family who called themselves “born-again Christians” and although I had attended church services with them on many occasions, I had never heard the term “irresistible grace” and even if I had it would have meant absolutely nothing to me.

 My father and mother both came from a Roman Catholic background.  My father fell away from the Roman Catholic Church as a young man.  He started studying World Religions, attended a Unitarian church (on occasion) and is now a self-professed atheist.

 As a young girl, my mother was a scrupulous Catholic.  At some point during her High School years, she even decided to live with the Nuns in a convent to determine if God was calling her to the religious life.  I suppose it goes without saying that my mother did not become a nun and that’s a story for another time.

 My mother and father met at a USO dance and they later married.  My father gradually pulled my mother away from the church and she began to question her faith.  She would have basically called herself “agnostic” during those years.  My father was in and out of our lives until I was 10 or 11 years old. (That’s another long story for another time).  My mother later became a “born-again” believer.

 Although our family would be defined (by most) as “dysfunctional”, I really feel thankful for the way in which I was raised and have no real regrets or emotional scares.  Both my parents held high moral and ethical standards and taught these standards and principals to their children.  We were not only taught, but also witnessed our parents living by what I would now call “Christian principals”; not in matters of faith—but in matters of morals.  In spite of my father’s rejection of God, he always encouraged us to do our own research and to come to our own conclusions.  Everything was discussed in our house and we were always encouraged to question and to think.  (I thank God for both my mother and my father).

 Because I was a very strong-willed and self-reliant young person, peer pressure had little to no effect on me.  I was not one to follow the crowd or do things to “fit-in”.  I realized early on that bad choices meant bad consequences and that following the crowd was almost always a bad choice.  One of my father’s precious pearls of wisdom was, “The masses are asses!” and frankly I found much truth in that crude expression.  I had established my own set of moral standards and gained a sense of peace and comfort by striving to live up to them.

After my mother was “born-again” I would attend church (on occasion and to please her) for special events, to hear speakers, or on Holidays.  When visiting with my grandparents, I would also attend church services with them and have lengthy conversations regarding the faith after the service.  I had the typical questions and expressed the typical reasons for justifying my unbelief.

By the time I was 34 years of age, I had heard a lot of scripture and had basic “head” knowledge of the Christian faith.  I had definitely heard enough of the Word of God to understand, intellectually, the gospel message.

 Having learned a little bit about many of the World Religions, I basically developed my own philosophy of life.  Some of my beliefs were as follow:

 *      All religions where man-made and those who followed them were following them for one of three reasons:  1) out of fear; 2) out of ignorance; or 3) because they wanted to believe that they could live forever.  They didn’t want to believe that they would cease to exist.  I saw this as an incredibly self-centered and narcissistic motivation to be “religious”.  I felt that if God existed one should praise and worship Him simply for the air they breathed, the life they were given, and the beauty of His creation.  In fact, those that tried to evangelize me with the threat of Hell or the reward of Heaven, completely turned me off.

 *      I never felt that men were “basically good”.  I believed that one must “decide” to be good and work on it daily.  I think early on that my religion was basically—ME!  Be the best person I could be; be honest, be disciplined, be kind, be helpful, be self-reliant, be trustworthy, etc., etc.  Not with any hope of heaven or any fear of hell, but just because it made me feel good about me.  And, it seemed to make those around me happier as well.  In other words, I would weigh the pleasure I might gain from doing something wrong with the pain it might cause another having done it.  If my action would disappoint or hurt someone, I would opt not to do it.

 *      I believed that we are born, we live, and then we die.  This life is all there is—like it or not—and frankly I liked it!  I was content with life.  I had no high expectations from this life or from those around me.  One of my favorite sayings was, “no one ever promised you a rose garden”.  When someone would complain about something that I saw as minor, I would say, “Hey, things could be worse—you’re breathing aren’t you?” (Talk about a lack of compassion!)

 *      I reasoned that if God did exist, he would obviously be able to see into a person’s heart and know fully their motivations for believing in Him.  I knew that if there was indeed a God, that I could not trick Him.  I knew that I could not make myself believe or “decide” to believe.  I didn’t take this lightly.  I knew that if I was going to follow Him that it would have to be real.  I remember telling my mom, “I know how happy it would make you if I became a Christian.  But, you don’t want me to make this decision just to please you…do you?”

*      I tested everything by the result or outcome as proof of its reality.  In other words, if someone said a certain medicine would cure a certain problem, I never believed it until it actually worked.  If someone said that they found a really terrific diet that was easy to stay on and six months later they were still fat, I reasoned that either 1) the diet was not easy to stay on or 2) the diet was easy to stay on but it was not a terrific diet or they would have lost weight.  I applied this same principal to everything; including religion.  I looked for evidence of the reality of Christ in the lives of Christians.  Frankly, I didn’t see it.  Most of the Christians that I knew were miserable and I was happy.  I was certainly not going to join a club where most of the members didn’t seem to benefit from membership; didn’t seem to accurately reflect their club president; and, where many of the members didn’t appear to follow even the basic rules.

 *      I thought that religion (and Christianity in particular) was basically a good thing because people did need accountability-if nothing else.  They needed rules to live by (regardless of their motivation for following them) as men were not “basically good” and I thought that the rules and principals of Christianity were good ones.  I never would attempt to discourage anyone who had “religion”.  I wasn’t convinced that “religion” really helped many people, but it seemed to keep them in check—to some degree.

 Perhaps this helps in understanding why my Christian grandmother would say, “You are going to be a tough egg to crack.”

 I had a 15 year career with the County of Santa Clara; a nice office; a great salary; I was basically quite content.  I had never married, no children, no boyfriend, but I can say I was happy.  Most of my friends were either married and miserable or dating and miserable.  I was single and happy.

 Now the cracking begins!

 I was doing double sessions of Jazzercise--five days a week, and was taking Salsa Dance lessons and dancing at a club in Mountain View twice a week.  I really loved dance.  I didn’t go to the club to meet men.  I simply loved the dance.  In fact, at the age of five I remember seeing Gene Kelly in An American in Paris and thinking, “that’s what I want to be when I grow up!”

 During one of my Jazzercise sessions, my entire left side went completely numb and I couldn’t raise my left foot off of the ground.  My best friend (Deni) rushed me to the emergency room where they performed an emergency CT Scan.  After several months and additional tests, I was finally diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (MS).

 I started to ponder my future.  I read everything written about MS that I could get my hands on.  The reality of this diagnosis was overwhelming to me and with that reality came my own little “pity party”.  I suppose that I realized for the first time that there was absolutely nothing that I could do to change the outcome.  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make this go away.

 My symptoms would fluctuate from severe to subtle and I lived in constant fear that the MS would come on strong and I would lose my sight, my speech or my ability to walk.  Sometimes the symptoms would disappear completely; but the “pity party” continued and was getting progressively worse.

 One night I went out to a club to see a friend perform with her ethnic dance troupe and proceeded to drink “gin and tonics”—one right after the other.  Once the club closed, I got into my car (in total denial that I had had way too much to drink) and proceeded to drive home.  In a matter of minutes (just a few blocks from the parking lot) I was pulled over and arrested for “Driving Under the Influence”.

 What?  “Little miss perfect with a DUI!  How did this happen?  I thought you were so strong!  I thought you were so smart!  I thought you didn’t do the stupid self-centered things that so many others do?  I thought you were different!  What happened to “nobody promised you a rose garden?”  Now, here you are feeling sorry for yourself, drinking and driving, endangering other people, and getting arrested for DUI.”  I was devastated.

 I realized that my perceived “happiness” was primarily based on my ability to control myself and my life and now it (and I) was completely out of control.  I see now that God used all these things (the MS and the DUI and many other things) to make me realize just how powerless, pathetic, weak, depraved, and helpless I truly was.

 After the DUI, I spent the next few months reflecting on my life, my philosophy and my own depravity.  I remember being at the end of myself.  The “ME” religion had died—It had obviously failed the test.

 One morning at work, I was so overwhelmed that I could no longer concentrate.  I was never one to discuss my problems with others and frankly I didn’t find most people’s counsel very helpful.  As ugly and arrogant as that sounds—it was the truth at that time.  What happened next was very surprising.  Even as I recount it now, I am struck with how unbelievable it truly was.

 What makes it even more wonderful is that I was never one to have, or to desire, “emotional experiences” and ran quickly from anything that seemed “touchy-feely”.  So what happened?

 Shortly before the lunch hour, and after getting really nothing accomplished due to the distractions of thoughts and feelings that I was experiencing, my foolish, stubborn, strong-willed, prideful heart began warring inside of me against an even stronger tugging on my heart that I could no longer ignore.  I began pouring my heart out to a God that I wasn’t even sure existed.

 Remember, I had heard the gospel message a number of times, I knew who the bible said that Jesus was, I understood why He came and what He had accomplished, I just refused to believe.  I simply was never willing or able to surrender control to anything or anyone.  The scripture that came to mind and had the most influence on my understanding of what it meant to truly surrender to Christ, was when Jesus said "If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple.  And whoever does not bear his cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple.  For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it--lest, after he has laid the foundation, and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him.  This was one of the scriptures that kept me from making a “decision” for Christ.  I knew I was certainly not there.  I knew that He would know I was lying (if he actually existed).

 I remember crying out to God, “I am at the end of myself.  If you exist, please, please, reveal yourself to me.  I am lost and realize my own insignificance and depravity.  I’m not asking that you cure my MS; I’m not asking that you solve all my problems; I am only asking that you reveal yourself to me.  I sincerely want to know the truth.  If you will somehow show me that you are really there, I will start living for you.  I will devote the rest of my life to following and serving you regardless of what that might cost.”

 As I sat there pleading with God, I was suddenly filled with the irresistible, undeniable presence and reality of God.  (Again, I am not one to be prone to “supernatural” or “emotional experiences” so this was truly and completely unsolicited by me.)  The best way that I can describe it is to say that I felt as if God had opened up the top of my head and slowly began pouring warm oil in—until it filled and infused my entire being.  My heart was warmed beyond human explanation.  I had no doubt whatsoever of the reality of God and bowed down to Him in praise and thanksgiving.  My heart and my head had been radically transformed.  I COULD DO NOTHING BUT BELIEVE!”

 Looking back, the scripture that comes to mind is, For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

 The first thing I did was to share this with all the Christians in the office.  I left my office to track them down.  I couldn’t wait to tell them that “I believe”.  There were tears of rejoicing and they spread the word quickly among the other professing Christians in the office.  I then proceeded to tell everyone I knew—even people I didn’t know (which was really atypical behavior for me).

 That night I called my Grandmother and said to her, “Well Grandma, the tough egg has finally cracked!”  My grandfather fell to his knees and I could hear him praising God, as my Grandmother rejoiced with me.  The word spread quickly through the family and the Christians all rejoiced.  Unknown to me they had been praying for me for years.

 Shortly thereafter, my very best friend (Deni) also was saved by God’s grace and received Christ as her Lord and Savior.

 From that moment in June of 1995, I was radically changed and desired nothing more than to grow in the grace and knowledge of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ…to know God, to follow God, and to serve God all the days of my life.  Christ and the things of God which previously I had found uninteresting became fascinating.  What, at one time, would have bored me—now thrilled me!  God’s irresistible grace had transformed my entire orientation from darkness to light!

 Mine was certainly not the most humble of conversions.  In fact, knowing what I know now, I was certainly a “Doubting Thomas”.  I refused to believe until God Himself was gracious and merciful enough to answer my request that He prove Himself to me.  I am grateful to God for the fact that he drew me to Himself in spite of myself.  This is one reason why I so strongly believe in God’s Sovereignty.  If the decision had been left up to me to make, I would have never made it.  I am still in awe of the undeserved mercy He showed to me and of the irresistible grace that He poured into a self-righteous; unbelieving; sin-filled; stubborn skeptic’s heart.

 No human reasoning could have convinced me; no desire to escape hell and gain Heaven would have motivated me; and, the examples of others certainly would have not persuaded me of the reality of God.   It was truly and only the irresistible grace of God that saved me.  I will close with this excerpt from a sermon preached by C.H. Spurgeon which so beautifully describes my conversion experience:

 “No lips can tell the love of Christ to the heart until Jesus Himself shall speak within.   Descriptions all fall flat and feeble unless the Holy Spirit fills them with life and power; until God makes Himself known to us, the soul does not see Him.  If you would see the sun, would you gather together the common means of illumination and seek in that way to view its splendor? No; the wise man knows that the sun must reveal itself, and only by its own blaze can that mighty orb be seen.

 It is the same with Christ.  "Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah!" He said to Peter.   "For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you." Purify flesh and blood by any educational process you may select, elevate mental faculties to the highest degree of intellectual power, yet none of these can reveal Christ. 

 The Spirit of God must come with power and overshadow the man with His wings, and then in that mystic holy of holies the Lord Jesus must display Himself to the sanctified eye, as He does not to the spiritually blind sons of men.  Christ must be His own mirror.  The great mass of this dim-sighted world can see nothing of the indescribable glories of Jesus.

 He stands before them without form or majesty, a root out of a dry ground, rejected by the vain and despised by the proud.  Only where the Spirit has illumined the eye, quickened the heart with divine life, and educated the soul to a heavenly taste, only there is He understood.  He is precious to the believer; He is the chief cornerstone, the Rock of your salvation, our all in all; but to others He is "a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense."

 Happy are those to whom our Lord reveals Himself, for His promise to such is that He will make His home with them.  O Jesus, our Lord, our heart is open; come in, and never leave.  Show Yourself to us now! Favor us with a glimpse of Your embracing loveliness.”

 Ephesians 2:7-10

That in the ages to come he might show the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness toward us through Christ Jesus.  For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:  Not of works, lest any man should boast.  For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.

 Romans 9:16

So then it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy.

 Yes…God’s saving grace is truly “irresistible”.  Much has happened since my conversion in 1995.  In fact, it was in the same year that I met a wonderful “Christian” man and married.  See “The Sufficiency of Christ” for (as Paul Harvey would say), “the rest of the story”.

 

 

Post Script

Interestingly enough, I had been misdiagnosed in 1995.  I never actually had Multiple Sclerosis.  In 1997, after 3 additional MRI’s and further testing it was determined that the symptoms that I had experienced were caused by a malformation in the brain where the lower portion of the brain is herniating into the spinal cord.  When the herniation becomes severe, it blocks the flow of spinal fluid from the brain to the central nervous system which creates symptoms that mimic MS.

 This disorder is called, Arnold Chiari Malformation or ACM (type I).  They believe it may be congenital and symptoms may appear later in life.  I have a very minor type (type 1) of ACM and with lifestyle changes (like not jumping up and down for an hour in Jazzercise classes) can live almost symptom free.

 I want to thank God for my best friend, Deni.  She has stood by me through all the phases of my adult life and has been the very best friend a person could ever have.  I am very blessed.