The familiar mix of fear and embarrassment soured in my mouth, paralyzing my tongue and welling up behind my eyes. I fiddled with my old, cheap CTR ring and grasped at words. I knew they would make no difference. People believed what they wanted to believe about Mormons. About me.
|Photo courtesy of 2355 Photography|
The truth is, I found saving in a song.
I am no longer a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I've read and prayed and studied and come to a different conclusion than many in my family. I love them just the same. But my journey to the Jesus I know now didn't begin with a loving conversation or a prayer or a Christian friend. It began with the radio. Because the radio didn't accuse or judge. It didn't ask questions or condemn or call me names. It didn't throw lies about my religion in my face, like it knew more about my faith than I did. It certainly didn't tell me Jesus hated my people. The radio loved better than every Christian I knew.
And that breaks my heart.
It breaks my heart because love is what it takes. Love is required. Love is the only power strong enough to open minds and change hearts. It doesn't matter how smart we are or old we are or witty we are, we're never going to transform a life by making a joke about multiple wives or secret underwear or modern day prophets. We're never going to glorify God by mocking a heart that needs truth.
I don't mean to say that no Christian ever loved me. My own grandma is the very picture of Christ's love, a precious, rare soul that loves even when she doesn't understand. But we, together, can do better. We must do better. We have the ability to impact eternity for the glory of God, but we have to make the choice to release our assumptions and reset our default. to rely a little more on listening and a little less on lectures.
To point, in the end, a little more to Love Himself.