When I was a little girl, nighttime shadows were large around
me, and I imagined spirits and demons against the wall. Bible
passages and revival meeting preachers had painted vivid
pictures in my mind of the horrors of hell, and I was afraid of
dying and going there. I did not know how to be a Christian, and
I was afraid to ask. Lonely and terrified, I cried myself to sleep
many nights.
And then one day I gathered courage. I talked to my mom and
dad, and I did what they told me. I prayed and asked God to
forgive my sins and take me to heaven when I died.
The fear was gone. And God was close–so close, that lying on
my back on my bed I could have reached up and touched Him–
but even that cannot describe His closeness. He was next to my
heart. I felt that He loved me, and this surprised me. Puny Luci
Miller, nine years old, inadequate, and fearful–and this God of
the Universe loved me? The revelation changed my life.
I nursed that beginning of a relationship like a tender young
seedling in my heart. As I got older, my desires grew and changed,
and my understanding of life deepened. But I could not forget the
startling reality of my nine-year-old revelation–that the God of
the Universe loved me. I never again feared going to hell.
That abandoned child’s fear was replaced by a new fear, gentler,
but more potent–I wanted nothing to damage this tender seedling
of love, nothing to come between me and this Startling Person
I had glimpsed. It was all I really wanted: to know this Person
better. He allured and called me–the words were gentle, but they
pierced me.
When I was a young woman of twenty-two, I dedicated my life
to Him in a public service. Trembling, joyful, reckless, I prayed
these words: I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord. I’ll do
what you want me to do. I’ll say what you want me to say, dear
Lord. I’ll be what you want me to be.
With all my heart, I meant every word.
But time moves on, and I move with it. I have not stood
unwavering in that holy and dedicated spot. Rather, it is the
opposite. In the years since I made that promise, I have gone
through intense periods of questioning God. I have felt anger
towards Him. I have felt my faith rocked by doubt until I could
only hold onto the sides of the boat and pray I would not sink.
I do not know why this is, unless it is that Satan hates my prayer
of dedication as much as I love it.
Trying to understand myself, I look for the root of the doubts.
These are my conclusions:
1. In the intervening years since that prayer, I have become
far more connected to the world outside my small Christian
community. Internet is a huge connector. Work, and the people
and lifestyles I come into contact with there, is another. I read
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