I’m sitting in my bed today, listening as waves of rain splash my window. I’ve been here almost all day, reflecting on the last ten years of my life. Ten amazing years. Easily the best of my short time here on earth.
Ten years ago I was in a season of questions and doubt. There’s really no other way to put it. I grew up in the Christian faith, and other than a few years in defiant, but staunch, atheism, I had always believed in the One they called Christ. I believed in Him before I knew what belief was. There was never any question in my mind that He was real, and that He was exactly who He said He was.
In 2011, however, I had come to a kind of crossroads. I was raised in church, heard all the stories, said all the prayers. I even had my very own “come to God” moment at church camp when I was 16. I was a Christian. Even in my years of unbelief, I still felt the presence of God. Even when I was stamping my foot down and angrily proclaiming, “There is no God!” I could hear Him whispering, “Why are you doing this to me?”
I left Him, but for reasons I barely understand two decades later, He never left me.
And then I got lost. I wandered away. I chased sin. Drugs, alcohol, sex, slander, gossip, baseless hatred. I lived in darkness. I reveled in it. And I did it all with the title, “Christian”…
Why? I wonder about this often. I carry around the marks of drunken tattoo parties, so the reminders are always nearby, no matter how far I am from that person I used to be. I think of those days and truly cannot comprehend why I lived that way. How could I lie to myself for so long and think that it was okay? To think that I was okay?
In 2011, it all came to a head. I had to face myself. I had been drunk or high for almost a year straight at that point. I had done everything I could think of to numb my pain and console my grief, and all I had left was shambles. I was a shell of a person. Hollow. Angry. Bitter. Vehemently defensive of my faith for some bizarre reason, but having absolutely nothing to show for it. Nothing to be proud of. All I had was pieces of a life I once lived and things I once believed. I was Christian in name only.
As time went on, I began to hate Christianity. The irony here is that I hated Christianity for the hypocrisy I was suddenly, glaringly aware of. Why were so many people claiming to be followers of Jesus, but not living as He lived? Why weren’t they walking as He walked, talking like He talked… loving like He loved?
Dust, meet plank. There’s a saying that basically goes, “You are what you see wrong in the world.” Meaning, whatever you see wrong in others is really just a mirror showing you your true self. Now, I don’t necessarily agree with this sentiment, but in this case, it was true. I was looking around at the Christian church, seeing reflection after reflection, and they were all me.
I didn’t know that at the time, though. All I saw was hatefulness and ego. Pride and division. Cherry-picking and lukewarm dedication. So that was it. I had made up my mind; if these Christians were supposed to be “imitators of Christ” and were consistently being a giant group of judgmental jerks, I didn’t want any part of them. I wasn’t even sure I wanted any part of Him.
But I knew, in my heart of hearts, that there was something out there. Call me simple or naive. Call me gullible or even foolish. I knew there had to be a God out there. I could not believe or rationalize that all of this came from nothing. Just a crazy set of circumstances and happenstances, and all the stances, led to this… to me, sitting here in a warm bed, surrounded by dogs and typing on a computer, listening to the rain fall. Despite my very large feelings and random episodes of crying like it’s going out of style, my brain has always been pretty analytical, rational, and science-oriented. I love science. I love sitting with a puzzle or a problem and figuring things out. Try as I might, I couldn’t rationalize something coming from nothing without something, or Someone, setting it into motion. I couldn’t rationalize chance events leading to the world we are surrounded by. I couldn’t rationalize things like beauty, love, and joy. They had to come from somewhere. From someone who had those same characteristics.
Whether I was in denial, and self-soothing or not, I believed there was a God. I just didn’t know who that God was. So I started praying. In November of 2011, I really started asking to know who God was. All day long I would say, “I don’t know who you are, or even IF you are, but I want to know you. I just want to know you and I want to know the TRUTH.”
I prayed this all day long. For months, I would sit in my bed sobbing all day, because I just wanted to know. I began fasting in addition to those prayers, “Please show yourself! Please tell me who you are!”
And then the strangest thing began to happen.
In January of 2012, I began to dream. I had always been a vivid dreamer, but there was something different about these. An element that was… outside of me. Outside of myself, or anything I had ever experienced. I would dream about something, and then that thing would happen. Or I would dream about a person I hadn’t seen or thought of since elementary school, and then two days later, I would see them out in public in a place we rarely went to, only to find out they had moved hours away and were only in town for the weekend. And then when I would pray, I started seeing visions, and “hearing” words and phrases.
I thought I was going crazy. I thought I was going absolutely bonkers. And I was terrified. Absolutely terrified. Nothing like this had ever happened to me in all of my years of Christianity. Was I dabbling in something I shouldn’t? Was I losing my mind? I started praying harder, fasting longer. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going away with “I’ll just ignore it”.
I dreamed of words. Big, bright white, block letters. The brightest, shining white you could possibly ever imagine. Pure white light. The first one said:
CLAN THEM, LEAD THEM
I didn’t have a clue what it meant, but I spent quite a bit of the dream just looking at those words. Even though I didn’t understand it, I knew that it meant “Someone” was going to begin gathering people, sorting them, and leading them. Teaching them, guiding them. Gather and Guide.
The next dream was about a week later. It said one word:
KANSAS
Much like the last one, I had no idea what it meant, but I felt very strongly that it would be playing an important role in my life. I laugh now, knowing how this has played out, but that’s for another day.
The last one was March 16, 2012, and it said:
SARACU CEA
I had NO IDEA what this one meant. I searched high and low for the meaning. Maps, dictionaries, translators, you name it. The only thing that I have found even remotely resembling this is two Romanian words,
Saracu— “Poor”
Cea— “One”
I wrote down “The Poor” when I found this. I also wrote down, “The poor in spirit.” (From Matthew 5:3, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven,” The idea behind being poor in spirit is, from my understanding, realizing that you are spiritually destitute without Christ. You have an understanding that you cannot buy goodness, you cannot train it up within you. You realize that without God, without His Spirit within, you will remain in that place of spiritual poverty. You understand that ALL MEN must humble themselves and seek their “riches” from Him, not from striving or seeking to earn or ”buy” our way into the Kingdom. We cannot buy righteousness, this is something He does within us (Check out Isaiah 55: 1, and Revelation 3:15-22))
Through a journey of these dreams, as well as a few others, I had come to a place where I believed that the God I was praying to was in fact, the God, the YHVH, of the Judeo-Christian faith. I believed that the Bible was the written word of God, a testimony and witness of His character and a history of His people. I also believed that Jesus was in fact, the Messiah I had believed Him to be. I wish I could tell you the events that led to this acceptance, but to be honest, they are a little hard for me to understand, myself. I hate saying, “I just knew,” but that is truly the only thing I can offer anyone who asks. It wasn’t just reading the Bible, it wasn’t talking to anyone. It was just me, falling on my face daily, fervently praying that God would reveal Himself to me and lead me on the way that I should go. I knew that He was good. That He was love. I knew that I wanted to know Him more than I had ever wanted anything in my entire life. More than anything. Ever. I would not be satisfied until He revealed Himself to me. I had been praying for weeks that He would use me to do His work, even though I had no idea what that meant. Even if it meant me dying for the sake of that work; I prayed that wherever He sent me, I would go. Whatever He asked, I would do.
On March 23, 2012, my life changed forever. He changed me forever.
It was a Friday evening. My husband and I were taking my brother to our cousin’s house. While we were on our way there, it was sunny. I noticed large, dark clouds in the sky ahead of us, but it had been raining and cloudy all day, so I didn’t think much of it. Classic Indiana spring; the weather can change on a whim.
When we got there, I got out of the car and heard tornado sirens. Again, I didn’t think anything of it, because when we lived in Bloomington I remembered the regular testing of the sirens being on Fridays (it wasn’t the first Friday of the month, but I didn’t think about that). Looking through old newspaper articles, I found that week was actually part of Indiana’s Severe Weather Awareness Week, (March 18-24), so perhaps that was another reason I didn’t think much of the sirens screaming in the wind. Despite the thick, black clouds, and the wind ripping through my hair, I felt calm. All the signs for severe weather were there, I just didn’t question or fear it because I was told to be prepared for “practice runs” that week. Looking back, I understand why this didn’t make sense for multiple reasons, but hindsight and all that.
While we were there, the weather station was on. It said we were under a tornado watch, and some severe thunderstorms were on the way. I remember laughing and feeling surprised by it. The sun had just been shining one town over. Hoping to miss the storms, my husband and I prepared to leave. When we stepped outside, the entire atmosphere around us was suddenly very eery. There were no cars driving around us, the sky had gotten significantly darker while we were there, the temperature had dropped, and the air had gone from windy, to a strange stillness. The only sound was the sirens. I remember feeling goosebumps before climbing into the car. Right before we pulled out of the driveway, our car radio started screeching.
Severe Thunderstorm Warning. Capable of producing strong, damaging winds, severe lightning, and quarter-sized hail. Capable of producing tornadoes. This is not a test. Seek shelter now.
I have lived in the Midwest my entire life. Warnings of this nature are about a once or twice a week occurrence in the spring and autumn. I’m embarrassed to say that most of us tend to ignore them until we can see the tornado with our own two eyes, and even then, you may be able to find someone out mowing their lawn or recording the whole event while the twister is destroying the entire neighborhood behind him. There’s likely a beer or two involved somewhere in the mix.
Now I won’t lie and say that I ignore them all calm and peaceful like. Usually (and I do say usually), I tend to stay what I will lovingly refer to as, “Vigilantly tranquil”… I’m moving about my day and doing the things I need to do, but I am also side-eyeing the clouds and wind; I’m checking the radars and reports and I’m listening for things that usually mean “Seek Shelter Now.”
But this day… this day, I felt overwhelmingly terrified. I could not calm myself down. The clouds were so ugly. Sirens were blasting, car radio was beeping, and then thunder began to rumble so loudly the ground was shaking. I felt one of the strongest senses of danger I had ever felt in my life.
We stopped the car and weighed our options. Did we want to try to make it home, or wait it out? We both decided to go back inside and wait. When we got inside, the weather station started alerting for a potential tornado and almost immediately, hail and rain began to fall.
And then… wake up, oh, sleeper. I don’t know how to explain what happened next. I could see those letters from my dream again. Big, bold, block letters. In my minds eye, but also like they were right in front of me, to where it was the only thing I could see. They said one word, “KANSAS” They flashed off and on like a light, KANSAS, KANSAS, KANSAS. I could hear it being said, over and over again. I saw alarms of all kinds. Alarm clocks, buzzers, fire alarms, drills. I “heard” them all going off, all at the same time. Kansas, Kansas, Kansas. Radio alarm clocks beeping, and screeching, and buzzing. The TV, the hail, the tornado siren.
The sound was deafening. I looked around and realized no one else was seeing or hearing what I was experiencing. Typical midwestern storm experience; no one was panicking. No one but me, apparently. I kept shaking my head and pressing my hands to my eyes in attempts to rid my vision of things that weren’t there, I plugged my ears with my fingers. No one else moved. No one else was bothered by any of it.
I walked to the backdoor and looked out the window. Hail was beginning to cover the ground. I looked up at the sky, and directly above us, the clouds were rotating. They were thick, black, and low. KANSAS, KANSAS, KANSAS. Lightning forked across the sky. I don’t know how to express it otherwise, but those clouds looked and felt, evil. They swirled above me, and it felt like the sky was grinning at me. It was a wicked, evil smile, and it genuinely felt like it was there for me. Fear doesn’t adequately describe what I felt in that moment.
As soon as I saw it, I went to the bathroom under the stairs and began to pray. I had never prayed so fervently in all my life. “Father God, I pray the blood of Jesus over us right now. That you will make this storm go away. That you will keep us safe.” Over and over again, I prayed, “Blood of Jesus, blood of Jesus. Keep us safe, keep us safe. Deliver us, keep us safe.”
It was a fierce, almost rabid, violent prayer, “Father God, deliver us! Deliver me! Keep us safe! Make this storm dissipate! Jesus Christ, deliver us!”
The hail fell harder. The sounds grew louder. Every roll of thunder rattled the walls around us. I prayed harder. My husband came into the bathroom to find me sitting on the toilet lid, rocking back and forth, sobbing with my hands covering my head, praying in whispers. He crouched down next to me while I prayed.
And then… surrender. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what broke through to me in that moment. I just felt an extreme wave of calm and rationale. I realized in that moment that I was completely helpless. Nothing I could say or do would change anything. He was the only one who could do that. My prayer for protection stopped and I said, “Father. Your will be done. If it is your will that we die today, your will be done. I just pray it will be swift and painless. But even then— your will be done. Not my will, your will be done.”
THE MOMENT I whispered those last words, “Your will be done” I felt a WHOOSH of hot, fiery air course through my entire body. My limbs and veins felt electrified. I started shaking, and for reasons I still do not understand, my tongue started dancing within my mouth. I began uttering words that I could not understand with my ears, but inwardly, I KNEW that I was praising God with every fiber of my being— spirit, body, and soul. I couldn’t stop it. It flowed from somewhere deep within me. Some part of me that I had never known before. Something ancient, and… primal. Something completely outside the realm of logic or reasoning or explanation. It burned with white hot fire, and it felt… pure. The purest thing I had ever known. I praised Him for everything, every moment. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly, the easy, the hard. I praised Him for every person, every place, every animal, every experience. There was not a part of me or my life that I was not thankful to Him for. Because I knew all of it, every single bit, had led me there, to that moment with my Creator.
I could feel my husband next to me, right next to my ear. He said, “What? Lenzey, what are you saying? I can’t understand you. I can’t hear you.”
His voice, even his body, felt so far away compared to what I was feeling in that moment. All I knew was thankfulness, and joy, and surrender. All I knew was gratitude and praise. All I felt was Presence. I was in the Presence of something, Someone, so much greater than I, and I was… undone. All I knew in that moment was that He was HOLY, and I… was not. I understood in that moment what poor in spirit truly meant; that without Him, I have, I am… NOTHING. Nothing compared to His greatness, His goodness, or His glory. I sobbed, unabashed. It could not be contained. It could not be tamed. It was wildfire in my bones and whirlwind in my lungs.
News reports say the hail lasted for ten minutes. I don’t know how long I was in the bathroom, but in that moment, time ceased to exist. It was just Him. Only Him. When the hail started to calm down, so did I.
I heard the words, “Hush! Be still. Be still and know that I am the Lord your God. Be still.”
And with that, the storm ended.
That moment changed everything for me. It was… without explanation. I was the only one in a room full of people who saw, or heard, or felt it, but I had never known anything like it, and I had never felt more alive than I did in that moment.
The next few weeks were just as pivotal, just as life-changing, but that was the day, March 23, 2012, that I surrendered to God. And that is the day He revealed Himself to me in the whirlwind. That is the day Holy Fire raced through my being and flames danced on my tongue. I can’t explain it, but I never want to forget it.
It’s my Rebirth Day. I see that day on the calendar and think, “That is the day that God saved me. That is the day that He radically changed my life.”
He reached down and met me where I was; right there in that tiny little bathroom under the stairs. I will forever be thankful for that. He changed me. I walked into that room as one thing, and walked out as something completely different. I know it may seem silly… but I died that day. That was the day I submitted to, “If I perish, I perish,” and “Even if He does not, He is still good.” I submitted to Him, and submitted to the truth that HE is the one in control of my life. He decides when I go, and He decides if I stay.
Every year on this day, I silently observe it as a holiday of sorts. I look at photos from that day, and watch videos other people posted. I sit with my Father, and I thank Him for what He has done. Not just for that moment, but every moment before, and certainly every moment since. My life has not been the same. I have not been the same. I am so thankful for this! Before that storm, I was so broken, and sick. So angry, and so very, very sad. I did not know joy or peace or hope. I didn’t even know love. Not really. I was desolate, and had no idea.
My life since then has been no walk in the park, make no mistake. It has been hard. It has been rife with grief, loss, abandonment, and betrayal. It has been tumultuous and leaves me feeling storm-tossed more often than not. The last decade has been refining and so very, very difficult.
But the one thing that remains steady; the one thing I can count on through it all, is Him. My Yeshua. He SAVED me. He never leaves me. Not when I wander away. Not when I choose my sin over my Savior, not when I am lashing out in anger and ignoring Him completely. No, not even when I was a sad, hurt, hateful little teenager screaming that there was no God. He is the Solid Rock. He is the Promise Keeper. He never leaves me or forsakes me. He wants good for me, and He wants to KNOW me… He wants me to know Him.
And oh, how faithful He is to reveal Himself to us, when we seek Him. How faithful He is to teach us and guide us. To correct us when we start to wander astray. He is so good to us. His Word tells us these things over and over again. But knowing these truths with our minds, and knowing them with our hearts are two very different things. There is no mistaking them once you know that you know them. Inside and out… mind, body, heart, soul… spirit. Every cell, every facet. All of you, seeing and knowing that the Lord is good. Seeing and knowing that His Word is reliable. There’s nothing like it.
Every year, He shows me a little more about the meanings behind the dreams He gave me. Every year they grow and deepen. I am astounded by their richness, and I could easily write a book about all of them. KANSAS seems to be the most frequently visited for personal growth lessons… that one would absolutely get a book all of its own. CLAN THEM, LEAD THEM continues to grow with my understanding of the Scriptures. Truly phenomenal stuff there.
And then there’s SARACU CEA… Ten years later, and I still scratch my head over this one. Just for kicks and giggles, every once in a while, I type it in Google to see what comes up. Same thing. Possibly Romanian for “Poor One”… today I looked it up again, and had to laugh at one of the sites that came up. It’s a site dedicated to translating words from one language to another. This one gives the words in an example sentence. In the last sentence for Saracu, it says, “Now the poor fellow is hiding in the bathroom…”
I could write an entirely new post on how the Father spoke to me for those first couple years. If I did, you would see why I am so amused by finding this site today. You would understand why I am so amused that I have listened to rain falling most of today, my tenth birthday. You would see and know why my life has taken such a dramatic turn into the way we live today.
It would make sense. Maybe. Maybe someday I will begin writing it down to help others understand a little bit more.
Ten Years.
On March 23, 2012, I went into a bathroom to pray and came out a completely different woman. That moment changed my life forever. Ten years ago, I was one way, and now I am a different way. That bathroom, and Who I met in there, was what changed me. I am not yet where I hope to be, but I am not where I was, and for that, I am eternally grateful.