“Crazy” Pentecostal
I was at work the other day talking with one of my employees about her trip to the zoo with her boyfriend and his mom. She says, “We walked by a group of women with skirts and long hair and Matt said, ‘Those must be those crazy Pentecostal people!'”
I had to laugh.
I now make no effort to hide my faith or to try to act like I’m not one of those “crazy” Pentecostals. A few years ago I backslid and returned to the world from which I had come. Don’t get me wrong – with all my heart I wish that I had stayed faithful in my walk but now I see in a way that I never did before how awesome this way of life is. I guess I never was a “real” Pentecostal before, even though I was very active in the church and had a hunger for wisdom and knowledge because I felt the need to compromise on standards… and all the little compromises led to bigger ones.
Still, the Lord touched me enough so that during my backslide, when I was doing all the things that I shouldn’t have been doing I felt Him calling me back every day. There were days that all I could think about was that if I died, I was going straight to hell. And yet I still felt that I couldn’t break the addictions and chains that held me, My relationship with my family suffered, my dad could barely stand to be in the same room with me and that broke my heart because I had always been a daddy’s girl. I felt ashamed of myself when I would make the effort to go to church. Every aspect of my life suffered.
Finally, I got the opportunity to break free and move away from my small hometown where it felt like my own life was smothering me… where everyone knew me to be the churchgoing girl that spent her 21st birthday at revival only to turn around a few years later to be as wild as they come. Three hours away, I began to feel traces of freedom and hope.
Even then I struggled, but mainly with self-condemnation. How could God ever want me back after I’d walked away from Him? After He died on a cross for me, I couldn’t even stand through my trials. It took about a year for me to believe that He still had a purpose for me and was waiting for me with open arms, and when that happened I gave my life to Him again.
Now, standards aren’t an issue to me. Giving my time to Jesus isn’t an inconvenience. He has shown His never-ending love to me and it’s the least I can do to follow His Word. When people tell me how they could never wear skirts all the time or not cut their hair or whatever the standard being discussed is, all that I can tell them is that it’s not about restrictions. It’s about love and wanting to please the One who set me free. And I pray endlessly that He will continue to refine me and let His light shine through me to all those I come into contact with.
Crazy Pentecostal? All I know is that as soon as I made this change in my life He started pouring His blessings out on me and as we worshipped in church Sunday evening, I felt His love and freedom like never before. And I would rather be called crazy by the world than be in it, still searching for happiness and fulfillment where there is none.
They can call me crazy. I call myself blessed.
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