From School Bus to Marshrootka

Riding the Marshrootka home tonight, I went back to my 9th grade year when I used to ride the bus. I hated 9th grade. I went to a school where I didn’t know anyone; I moved up to the high school youth group even though my friends from church at the time all happened to be younger than me and would continue in the middle school ministry for another year or two. As for most high school kids, having my social connections all messed up seemed like the end of the world. For the first several weeks I rode the bus home in tears. And still crying, would call my mom and tell her how horrible things were. Out of self pity, I started talking to Jesus on those bus rides home. Telling Him how terrible it was and asking for a friend. And, in the human form, he sent several over the next couple years. But the real gift He gave me that year was a renewed relationship with Him. An understanding that He wasn’t just sitting up in Heaven on a throne watching my pain and thinking “gosh, Lori, when will you ever get life figured out.” No, a couple thousand years before He had left that behind in order to show all of us just how big His love is. And He didn’t just die for us; He rose and conquered death. And He didn’t just ascend into Heaven; He sent us His Holy Spirit to be with us constantly. And when He did that He knew that in 1997 in Tallahassee, FL there would be an insecure 14 year old girl who would need the friendship that only He has to offer. I don’t always feel as close to Him as I did during that year. Last semester I spent a lot of time asking Him for that closeness again. Today I feel it. Tomorrow I pray I will, but I may not. And regardless of how I feel, I take comfort in knowing that God is love. And He is the same yesterday, today and forever.