I never could really understand how someone could just not believe in God. I mean, go outside and look at the vastnesss of the night sky. Or stand on the shore of an ocean, or at the foot of a mountain...or even in a field of wild flowers. God's handiwork is everywhere. His power and majesty can be seen even in the tiniest DNA cell of the human body. So the idea that God may not exist never even entertained my thoughts.
Once when I was nineteen, I went through a particularly difficult season. I remember one night, sitting in my car and bawling my eyes out and screaming to the sky, "God, why did you forget about me?! I don't even know if you're real anymore." That's what I said anyway, but it's not exactly what I meant, I don't think.
I think what I was trying to say was, "God, I don't know if you love me anymore." And although I grew up in church, and I "knew" God, I somehow felt like God didn't care about me. I felt like I was unlovable; like I was worthless.
But the next day we had a youth revival at my church.
During the altar call, the preacher came to me in my seat and asked if he could pray for me. I said yes. He looks me in the eye and says, "Your beautiful. Jesus loves you, and God did not put you on the back burner and he did not forget about you." And I was so excited because that's the exact thing I was crying out to God about the night before. And then he went on to say, "Your husband is coming. Before you're thirty. Don't settle, because God is going to give you everything you've asked for. When you were a little girl and you dreamed about your husband...that's him. And you're also going to be a mother."
And so I held on to those promises like a starving person holds on to their last morsel of food. My life was in shambles, but Jesus loved me and he was about to give me everything I had asked him for. And I believed it. I told everyone about it. I imagined myself with my drummer/preacher husband (cause that's what I wanted) and my baby in my arms. And I knew in my heart that my mustard seed faith was gonna rock this world, and thousands of people were going to come to Christ when they heard what God had done in my life.
I never doubted. Even when I went through my "bad" phase, when I was living a sinful lifestyle, when I had completely turned my back on God I still believed. I would have boy problems, and my friends would ask me if I'm okay, and I would say "I'm fine. My husband is still coming."
My friends all started getting married and I would cry a little, but then I would say, "God I trust you." And then my friends started having babies, and I would say, "God I trust you." And with every Birthday I would take a deep breath and say, "God I trust you." And I did.
And then a couple of years ago I met someone who was a drummer/preacher, and even though I knew from the very beginning (I'm not stupid) we weren't meant to be. I still had this glimmer of hope. I thought, God is this him? But he broke my heart. And I was ok, but I could feel my faith weakening...just a bit. And then a year ago, I started having problems and I found out that I have a disease where I only have a 50% chance of ever conceiving a child, and then if I do, it's like a 50% chance I'll miscarry. But I prayed, and I said, "God I still trust you." And I did.
And then on April 21st of this year, something devestating happened. I turned 30. I thought, ok, I can do this. I had wanted to have a huge Birthday party blow out, but then my plans fell through. And then I was going to go eat with some friends, and they all cancelled on me at the last minute. And then I asked my family if they wanted to do something for my birthday and they said no. And so I sat in my living room, on my couch, in the dark (because my light had burned out and I didn't have the energy to change it.) and I cried. And the devil said, "Who loves you?" and I said, "No one." and he said, "That's right, no one loves you. Not even God." And I said, "That's not true." But the thought was planted in my mind. Maybe God really had forgotten about me.
And I stuffed all that away, and I went on with my life. And I told people how awesome my birthday was, and I told everyone that 30 felt just like 20 and I'm not like everyone else who gets depressed when they get old. And I put on this big mask with a big plastic smile and I carried on.
And somewhere in there I stopped reading my Bible. And I stopped talking to God. And I started getting bitter. It wouldn't take very much at all to set me off. I was mad at just about everyone at my church on a pretty regular basis. I didn't talk about it, but I was. Someone could just look at me wrong and I wanted to throw punches.
About a month ago (three weeks before camp) I had a realization. I was leading worship on Wednesday night, like I always do, and some teenagers walked through the door of the sanctuary. They were loud, and I don't guess they realized we were having church, but they walked through the sanctuary to the youth room, and everyone stared at them, and and no one was worshipping God, and I was starting to get mad, because I felt like I was wasting my time, and about 10 minutes later, I looked down and realized that I couldn't even remember a single song I had just sung. I had always preached against the clanging cymbols...the people who praised God with their lips, but their hearts were far from him. And here I was clanging my cymbol the loudest, making the most noise, and I didn't even know God anymore. I was just going through the motions. And I didn't want to be that person.
It was that moment, I wanted out. I thought, as soon as church camp and camp meeting is over, I'm gonna start looking for a way out of the church...and not just MY church. I didn't want to go to church, period. Then Pastor Mark Rector came to our church. He preached a message called "Don't throw in the towel." And it didn't look like many people were getting much out of his message, but the entire time, I heard God say, "This is for you." And something within me said, "I'm not ready to give up." and I pressed forward. And I was determined that I was going to live for God, that I was going to trust God no matter what.
The first night of camp, Pastor Todd gave an altar call, and although I couldn't go to the front because I was doing the music, I told God how sorry I was for doubting him, and how I know he has a plan for my life. And that I still trust him. And I asked him to forgive me. I got saved again at church camp. And as every day went by, my faith got stronger and stronger. And by the last day, I could feel God again. And I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he loved me, and that I WAS worth something to him. I was very close to giving up everything God has for me. Thank God he set me on the right track again. Thank you God for saving me! My name is Miranda Dallis, I'm 30 years old, I'm a leader in my church, I lead worship, and I got saved at church camp.
I still see myself in the ministry with my husband by my side and my baby in my arms. I don't like waiting, but I know that God's will for my life is perfect. God I still trust you.
