I walked out of my nineteen-year marriage with a few carloads of belongings, leaving everything else behind to ease my conscience. My decision to walk away shocked those who knew me.

Up to this point, I had spent much of my life in church, safely surrounded by family and friends. Loving memories of hearing my godly father preach were still very much alive within me. I had never questioned where I belonged or who I was, but when I divorced my husband and moved away, I damaged many lifelong relationships. Most would have described me as a “religious” woman. I went to church every week, served on the church board of trustees, taught Sunday school, led women’s groups, and mentored younger women. 

My dedication was so profound that in my late twenties, my husband and I sold our California home and moved with our two small children to the Navajo Reservation.  We worked and lived alongside a missionary team that tirelessly gave of themselves for the betterment of the Navajo community. During the twelve years I lived there, I also opened and managed an office supply business that provided employment opportunities for the community. For years, I loved living there and serving the community.  But in my late thirties, I began to question my life and identity. This questioning eventually led to a major crisis of faith.

For the next couple of years, my secret struggle was all-consuming. I felt trapped in a downward spiral and desperately sought God’s help to fix me and change my circumstances, but He didn’t, or at least that’s how I perceived it. At first, despair set in, then anger. I became bitterly disappointed and decided, “I’ve given God enough time. It’s time for me to fix my own life”. Now, looking back, it's hard to understand how I could be "so religious" yet challenge God so defiantly.

The year after the divorce was final, my daughter headed off to college, and I accepted a job in a city about 600 miles away. Soon after, my young son and I loaded a U-Haul truck and drove across two states to our new home.

As I prepared for this significant life change, I tried to make sense of everything. Although my family and church had always been my safe places, building a new life was far more difficult than I had imagined.

I eventually remarried, but as much as I loved my husband and our life together, the profound loss of God in my life was ever-present. I had never experienced that kind of loss before. My husband struggled to understand what was happening to me. He believed in God and thought that was enough, but it wasn’t for me. When the fallout of my consequences hit, I was even more desperate for a relationship with God. 

Facing the ruins and broken pieces of my decisions filled me with enormous guilt. I felt like I was drowning. I started praying with all my strength. All I wanted was to feel the Spirit of God again; then, something happened I can only describe as profound. It felt as if I was shedding tears on the inside, and they were slowly trickling down the inside wall of my body, cleansing me from the inside out. It was something I had never experienced before or since. 

Hope broke through as I continued praying and re-reading familiar Bible stories for what seemed like the first time. I felt especially drawn to the story of the woman forgiven in Luke 8. I could almost see her washing Jesus' feet with her tears and then drying them with her hair in a demonstration of her love for him. I can only imagine how she must have felt knowing He unconditionally forgave her. Her love for Jesus was tender and honest. Could I be that woman? 

For the first time, I understood at such a deep level why she followed Jesus and sat at His feet. When I read the words, "Jesus tenderly spoke to the woman and said, Your sins are forgiven." At that moment, He spoke those words to me as well. 

This new personal walk with the Lord began to drown out my insane, fragmented thoughts. How powerful it is to rely solely on God’s declaration of my identity. I knew how to do “religion,” but I did not know how to have a real relationship with Jesus. Nothing mattered more than being alone with God. I begged for His presence. 

One morning, I awoke from a night with very little sleep and slid down the side of my bed to the floor. My mind felt bombarded with the names of those I had harmed by my selfish actions. As God brought each to mind, He provided clarity and prompted me on what to write. With tears dropping onto the now smudged paper, I wrote a note to each one asking for forgiveness and taking full responsibility for my actions. 

Some notes were more painful to write than others. When I finished a note, I waited for the Lord to reveal another name. As I wrote each one, I felt a burden of guilt lifted. When no more names came to mind, it was the middle of the night, and I had just experienced the healing available for those with a repentant heart. Exhausted and in much need of sleep, I promised the Lord that in the morning, I would get up and make myself ready for church. I would drive until He told me where to stop. I knew that I needed a place where I could worship and hear the Word of God. 

The next day was Sunday, and I kept my promise, stopping where I felt led. With the service already in progress, I walked to the very front of the church and sat in a center seat. I began weeping as I felt God's familiar presence. I was home. Leaving the church, I felt a profound sense of awe, knowing that God had heard and answered my plea from the night before. 

My husband and I began attending that church regularly. When I attended, I felt God’s presence, but I had no idea what the Church of the Nazarene was all about. It wasn't until I participated in a newcomer's class and heard the church's core beliefs that I understood why God led me there. Learning about holiness and sanctification struck a chord deep in my spirit. I yearned for a life of holiness, not perfection, but a renewed life that would reflect the character of Christ. 

The day I spent on my knees seeking forgiveness is an essential part of my redemption story. I firmly believe the gift of redemption empowers us to live a life of holy obedience. But a transformed and redeemed life will elude us unless we surrender our will and find forgiveness Have I made mistakes since then? Oh yes, but there is something about being restored for a purpose that brings hope and energy to my life.  As I read the stories about many of the Bible characters and the apostles in particular, I realized that I am in good company. 

 My story serves as a testament to the transformative power of redemption, the healing that comes from forgiveness, and the profound possibilities of renewal.