My Dream: Saying "Yes" to Jesus

I had a moment in my early twenties looking around a bar; it was almost slow motion and quiet, where I realized how unbelievably lost I was. Nothing, in particular, happened that night that had caused me to think this; I just had a weird moment feeling unblinded to the perspective I viewed my life. It was a deep undistracted thought about how aimlessly I was wandering through life.

I didn't know it then, but I attribute that moment to understanding my longing for fulfillment. Fulfillment at the time looked like; going to school, having a career, falling in love, getting married, buying a house, having kids, building a white picket fence, getting old, having grandbabies, and then dying. If there were a God, hopefully, he would let me in for "trying to be a good person." That was what I thought a "happy" life looked like. I put the most significant emphasis, particularly on falling in love, getting married, and having kids, and for this reason, I spent my entire life looking for love—an idol for me.

As it turns out, I quit college at nineteen, because I had gotten pregnant and worked very hard to open a beauty business to provide for my family. I was very blessed because being a business owner made it so I was able to raise my daughter. However, I was, in fact, in love and did get married, but that marriage came with suffering (I am choosing to use this word, incase my daughter ever reads this). Not even a year into marriage, I was divorced. My "happy" life wasn't going to plan. I eventually started dating once again, probably four separate boyfriends passed, and this time I was living with and settling down with someone with whom I thought I could move forward on that quest for a "happy" life. But that one night back out at the bars with my girlfriends would cause the room to spin for a brief moment and cause me to realize life was not at all what I thought. I thought of my daughter and how I was ready for our lives to be different and about meaningful things. I left that night and didn't go back on the weekends anymore. I entered a new place void of hope of being not lost, and I had no idea how to fix wanting to know fulfillment or where to begin to discover what it was.

The following day, tangled and defeated, the music was off in my car. Silence in my car was rare, as I was very good at keeping my brain distracted with phones, music, and friends. The uncomfortable silence allowed another unwanted pondering thought and reflection. Out of nowhere, I began talking out loud; I found myself going to the place in my thoughts many tend to go when they are in desperate need of a miracle, something much bigger than them with the power to change their distress, God. I didn't know if He was real, but I was desperate.

"God, I don't know if you exist, I don't know if you are real, or about as real as the tooth fairy (I remember feeling weird when that left my mouth if there was a mighty God, did I tell Him I thought He might not be real like the tooth fairy? I humbled my heart because if this was the Big Man I was talking to and if He was listening, He deserved respect) If you do exist, can you please come to find me? Can you please make me (I remembered distinctly using this world, which was odd for me) obsessed with you?" I didn't know what else to say, so I just stopped. The quiet in my car crept in again, and I started feeling dumb, like, "Ok, I just talked to myself. Chelsea, you are officially a weirdo." I headed home and thought nothing about that again all week.

At the end of the week, though, I went to sleep and had a dream. Here is that dream:

I dreamt I was in a desert full of hills of golden yellow sand. Jesus was there, and He was holding my hand, leading me, and walking me up to the top of the mountain. He wasn't talking; neither was I. But He was smiling and walked with me slowly. It was endearing, almost like I could have put His head on his shoulder. As we walked, I just knew we were spending time together. He was in no hurry, and it seemed He was happy we were together. We got to the top of the mountain, and He turned to me and He said, "Chelsea, will you trust me?" (He said it slowly, almost like the question had a lot of weight) And then He held out both of his hands. I went from looking at us the entire time to being in my own body. And I hesitated for a long uncomfortable moment, I froze.

I didn't know if I trusted myself to know if it was Him. I had always heard there was something called an anti-Christ. I also sat there thinking that I knew Jonah and the Whale and Noah's Ark, but what did I know about Jesus? He died for me, which was a big deal, but what did that even really mean? I looked down at His hands and into His powerful yet gentle eyes. He patiently waited while smiling with His hands out to me. It was like He knew every thought I would have at that moment before I had it. When I looked into His eyes, I knew it was Him. I, embarrassingly stopped hesitating, quickly regrouped and placed my hands on His, "Yes," knowing I said yes to more weight and joy than I was even comprehending. And then I repeated it, this time with absolute confidence and certainty, "YES, I WILL trust you." I grabbed both of His hands. He smiled more extensively, and I felt this power of some kind enter my hands and body. I didn't know at the time what it was, but I knew it was good. It wasn't until hearing the story of the woman touching Jesus' garments in church that I realized that was the moment I received the Holy Spirit.

He said to me, "Chelsea, go and share with others about me" I shook my head, "I will." I turned to do as He said, I couldn't see Jesus anymore, but I knew He was with me. A stream appeared next to me as I walked and helped guide me out of the desert. I walked for a little way, and then there was a girl who was about my age. I told her about Jesus, and with a blank stare, she turned and walked away from me (which I feel was very telling that I would have to "brush off my sandal straps and keep going"). I then woke up. I lay there in my bed for quite a while before I got up, everything changed from this point forward.

The first time I opened the Bible after this experience, it wasn't trying to understand Shakespeare anymore. I stayed awake the entire night, glued to the wisdom in there. The first verse I read was about being unequally yoked, and I quite literally jumped out of bed with my boyfriend and brought up a very frank conversation about how different of pages we were on with being open to faith. I had tried to be patient, recognizing I couldn't push his journey, but as a person, I was changing. I was becoming an entirely different person, and it wasn't the person he had signed up to date. I didn't understand it. I thought I was becoming a more beautiful person on the inside. He had missed the broken one. Seven months of trying to be patient, many of which sleeping on his couch (while my daughter slept in her bedroom) caused us both to see we were too far apart. Mutually we agreed it was best to break it off. One by one, things started to change, and bondage in my life began to fall off of me; I welcomed blowing up my old life for the new one God was giving me. It couldn't happen fast enough all that God was molding me to become. I was starving to be His living clay.

I have been alive for seven years. I mark the start of my life by choosing Jesus. I have never looked back. My happiness and fulfillment are in Him. The joy in my life flows from Him. In a journey of finding life's purpose, I have felt I should share my life stories and lessons.

I once had an atheist friend ask me, "Why do Christians always have to talk about God to others? Why do they always have to push their beliefs on us?"

Knowing he had a girlfriend, I said, "Do you love your girlfriend?"

He looked perplexed, "Um, yes.."

I responded, "Isn't love good? Isn't love a wonderful? Isn't love happiness and joy?" Well, what if YOU knew that love existed and how beautiful, powerful, wonderful, joyous, happy, and fulfilling it is, but I didn't know what love was? Never knew of it, never heard of it, didn't know it existed? Wouldn't you want to tell me, since you knew it? Wouldn't it be loving of you towards me tell me about love and let me decide if I want to accept it? That's why I share. Christians couldn't be Christian if they chose to keep love all to themselves. Knowing God is knowing love, I'm sorry for Christians who can be pushy and judgmental; even human Christians are imperfect. I tell you because I love you, that God loves you."

Like the girl from my dream who turned and walked away, he was not interested, but it did make him pause, and he did thank me for a healthy conversation.

So here I am, sharing, hopefully not pushing, hoping to share love, the love I only knew existed seven years ago, and if my story helps even one person, then all this time I spent writing God's story of my life will have been worth it. Thank you for reading.