I Know Who Holds Tomorrow, and I Know He Holds My Hand.
My Name is Emily Rogers, and this is My Story
In 2004, I attended a World Views Class at school. Going into the class, I remember being excited and curious. However, I walked away from the class very confused. I’m not blaming the class for my spiritual or moral decline, but I think that’s where it started. I still believed the Bible as being the basis of all truth and doctrines, But I also believed that how it applied to the individual was left up to that person. It was a “what’s right or wrong for you may or may not be right or wrong for me” philosophy.
Of course, when I tried to take this home and share it with my parents, they weren’t so quick to buy it. So, I further reasoned with myself: “What’s the point of having your own standards if your parents trump yours?” To me it seemed a waste of time, and was very frustrating. Looking back now, it’s so obvious to me that I didn’t have an interest in having standards; I just wanted the liberty to do my own thing without feeling guilty. But the next few years found me straying further and further from any sort of a moral guide.
At first, I tried to hide it from my parents, but gradually I became more openly rebellious. Deep down, it bothered me that I had no absolutes, and it bothered me that I was led around by my emotions, and what “feels good.” The bizarre thing about this time is that I honestly thought I was saved, just very backslidden. (Note: salvation, saved and born again are Biblical terms referring to the forgiveness of sins by God and the rescue of a person from the power and penalty of that sin. This is God’s requirement for everlasting life.)
In 2006, I got involved with something that really complicated things. I latched onto it as the only thing that made sense to me, and the only thing that made me feel safe. Everything else in my life was in turmoil, but this was something that to me was secure, real and unchanging. I got in trouble for it though, and finally admitted to myself that I wasn’t saved. I had no remorse for my actions, and didn’t think I was wrong, and I also didn’t have any real intention of stopping. Even though the realization of being lost bothered me, I used it as an excuse. Now, I didn’t need to behave; I wasn’t a Christian; I wasn’t going to act like one, or pretend to be one. After I started telling people that I wasn’t saved (as if it wasn’t obvious), I felt a freedom from that pressure.
But then my life became a constant fight. I argued with my parents about anything and everything. I fought with my Christian friends over standards and made fun of them. I knew I was wrong, but I was having a really hard time giving up what I thought I had.
I became caught up in music, and I would lose myself in the beats and rhythm, and identify myself with the absolute hopelessness and despair of the singers. Anytime I had a bad day or was depressed or not quite sure how I was feeling, I would turn to songs that reflected my mood. I never looked for answers, just tried to numb myself. I think I sort of created an alternate reality, because the real world was far too frustrating. I stayed away from my home more and more, because of the constant conflict that I had created.
My parents warned me many times of where I was going, and by the time I “got there” I didn’t care anymore. If I stopped to really think about who I was, I despised myself and my reputation, and if I had known a girl like me I would’ve been very contemptuous of her. The logical answer of course was to turn to Christ and let Him change me. But I had been lying to myself about things for so long that when I tried to ascertain what was real, I had no clue.
In February of 2007, things at home came to head and I moved out of the house. This had been building up for the past year, and all I needed was a catalyst. That came about due to some serious rebellion and sin that I had been involved with. I was scared to go, but a little voice inside me taunted me, as if to say, “Let’s see what you’re made of, Emily.” I think the next month was the most interesting of my life. For the first time the only person I could find to blame for who I was, was me. I was completely responsible for my actions and my choices. My alternate reality completely fell apart, as I faced the real world. I went through an incredible range of emotions, and came to the final realization that I was a rebellious, stubborn, and selfish mess of a girl. But at this point, I honestly thought it was too late for me. I had heard the messages about kids and teens who rebelled and refused God’s call and couldn’t get saved. I thought I had sinned too much. I had hurt so many good people, and I was going to hell for it, and there was not a thing I could do.
I can only thank the Lord that I stayed in church and my attitude didn’t get too much worse. I received a lot of opinions from many people as to what my next step needed to be. Even though I couldn’t stand who I was, I didn’t truly hate myself enough to change. I was sifting through opinions to see which one “fit” the best. Soon though, I recognized that the people that I thought were my friends really didn’t care for me, and my family was worth a lot more than what I had previously believed. Some “friends” hoped to use my situation to spite other people.
I was finally starting to get sick of where I was in my life. I was completely miserable, even surrounded by the people and things that I thought were all I needed. I felt dead and cold inside, and my conscience started to hammer me with who I was, and what I had done. While in church on Sunday, March 4, Pastor preached a message about how even though we are supposed to wait on God and His perfect timing, we can’t be sitting around, twiddling our thumbs, waiting for a 2x4 to come smack us. A light suddenly went on in my head! This is what I had been doing! Even though I doubted God’s love for me, I still expected Him to make it all happen, without any effort or surrender or searching on my part. The following week, I turned off everything that would distract me. I spent some time in God’s Word, searching for answers.
On Sunday, March 11, certain events took place that really shook my world up, and completely removed me from all of my support. Up until now, I had never been alone, even after I moved out. I always had someone right there, ready to catch me if I fell. But for the first time in my life, I was by myself. It was just me, and I was completely scared. I didn’t know who to trust anymore; I didn’t know who was using me, and I didn’t know where to turn. I remember standing on the porch at church and pouring all of this out to my mom. She was crying, and I knew that even though she desperately wanted to help me, she couldn’t. I watched her drive away.
I sat in the back pew at church and completely broke down. I had never felt so alone and desolate and completely undone in my entire life. A friend came up to me and told me that while I was broken, I needed to get on my face before God and seek Him. I don’t know why but I had never seen that instead of relying on other people and their interpretations of the Bible, I needed to go to the source and ask Him to show me.
I went downstairs to the kindergarten classroom, and although I hate to admit it, I started trying to bargain with God. I tried to pick and choose what I was going to surrender, and what I was going to keep. But it was if the Lord kept repeating, “ALL, Emily. If you want me, you’ll have to give it ALL.” I was so emotionally and physically and mentally exhausted at this point, I just poured out my heart to Him. I told Him the whole story: everything I had done, all of the feelings that I had and didn’t know what to do with, and how much I needed help and how I didn’t know what to do. I asked the Lord to help me because everything I tried made things worse. God showed me that on my own, I am nothing and I can do nothing because I’m not strong enough. He showed me who I truly was, and it was even worse than I had imagined.
At that point, I just gave up. All those things that I had clung to, and that I had thought were so terribly important to me paled in comparison to what God was offering. I was able to talk to God about the parts of my life that I was having a hard time relinquishing control of, and He showed me that if I would let Him, His will would be done. I asked the Lord to take control of my life, and to lead me, and forgive me for resisting Him for so long.
I walked away in a daze. I knew I had talked to God, and that He had talked to me, but a voice in my head asked me what made this different from my other professions. How did I know that God had truly saved me? The next two days I teetered between listening to this voice, and having complete faith that God had done what He said He would do. I finally had a chunk of free time on Tuesday night, and I decided to spend it reading my Bible and talking to God. I shared with Him the uncertainties and asked Him what I should do. He told me to just give it over to Him, and when I did I felt a settling in my soul, where previously there had been so much turmoil and pain.
I don’t know what’s next in my life, or where I’m going from here. But I know that God is faithful, and I can leave those details up to Him. Instead of going to other people for their thoughts and ideas, I can go to the source of all wisdom, and HE can tell me what’s right. That gives me such peace, knowing that if I’m willing, every day, to give my life up to God, He’ll take care of the rest, and it will be much better than what I could have planned for myself! I think the words that describe it best are in the song:
“Many things about tomorrow,
I don’t need to understand,
but I KNOW who holds tomorrow,
and I know He holds my hand.”