The First Seed

Verse: Psalm 139 Song: Reckless Love by Cory Asbury

Written by: Jessi Drost

Summer 2022

“You’re a runner.” The words echoed in my head. “A runner, what does that even mean?”

“When your circumstances overwhelm you, you run. And if you can’t run, you shut down and hide behind masks for self protection. It’s how satan controls you.”

Mouth agape, while realizing those words might have some (or a lot of) truth to them, “uh okay, thank you?”

I don’t think I have ever felt more exposed, more seen, than when this woman (who I had only met twice) called me out. It’s like the Lord gave her insight right into my soul. Immediately my mind started to remember all of the times in my life I chose to do exactly what she said; run. All of the times I walked away, thinking I needed to look elsewhere for what my soul was seeking. All of the times I hid who I was from the world. The shame, the fear, the need to run (especially from this woman who clearly saw a side of me I didn’t ask her to see), it all came over me like a heavy cloak. But what I also saw was how God had consistently chased after me when I would run. How He was there to comfort me when the overwhelm was too much, and how He found me each and every time I would try to hide (Ezekiel 34:11-16). It brought me back to the very first time God revealed himself to me, and big surprise, I ran…

Spring 2012

It was a Sunday morning. I was wrapping up my senior year of high school, and I was so lost and hurting. Dealing with broken friendships, battling an eating disorder, pushing away those who loved me, and trying to figure out where I belonged in this world. I was living in complete sin, but still God saw me. He saw my pain, He heard my cries, and I see now that His heart was breaking right alongside of mine.

I was getting ready to go to the gym, mentally beating up my body, when my Mom knocked on my door. Her hair sopping wet from quickly exiting the shower, she asked if I would go to church with her. Something she had stopped asking long ago after she was met with nothing but a distasteful “no” over and over again. It was like someone spoke for me when I heard myself respond “yes”. Clearly caught off guard, and probably a little afraid I’d change my mind, my Mom scurried away to finish getting ready. (My Mom would later note that she wasn’t planning on asking me to join her that day, and it was as if someone overtook her body when she stepped out mid shower to ask me to go to church with her. How amazing is God?!?)

A bit later, she knocked again to ask if I was ready to go. But this time she was met with her crying 17 year old daughter, sitting in the midst of clothes scattered all over the floor (eating disorder recovery is rough ya’ll). I frantically told her through the tears that I couldn’t go with her to church after all; none of my clothes fit and I couldn’t miss a workout. Both feeling defeated, we drove in our separate cars into town. I watched as her car pulled into the church parking lot, while I parked my car just across the way at the gym.

I went on autopilot as I went in to punish my body for not fitting into my too small clothes anymore. Keys, phone, and iPod sitting next to me, I stared at the broken girl in the mirror, picking apart her flaws. Convincing her the only way to feel better was to perfect my appearance. Keep pushing, keep working, keep perfecting, and don’t stop until you are worthy of their love. Choking back the tears, I got to work. But my heart wasn’t in it.

Without a thought, and without any awareness of what my body was doing, I got up mid workout, leaving all of my belongings behind, and walked across the parking lot to the church. Like an out of body experience, I sat in the seat next to my Mom right as the pastor was teaching about God’s love. I listened as he explained we didn’t need to do anything to earn love from our Heavenly Father, that all we needed to do was give Him our life. That God isn’t keeping score of our failures, and wants to give us a life of abundance, a life of peace. A life free from striving… I learned that Sunday morning for the first time, that my worth wasn’t measured by my efforts. I learned that in Christ alone I am worthy. The sermon ended, I got up without saying a word to anyone, and walked back to the gym to finish my workout.

The first seed of Faith was planted.

I wish I could say my life was forever changed at that moment, and that I surrendered myself to our heavenly Father that morning, but that would be so far from the truth. God was clearly trying to get ahold of me. While it may not have been my moment of salvation, it was the start to my journey of knowing and loving the Lord, and for that reason I will always cherish this memory.

I’ve never really shared this story before. One because I didn’t want to hear the doubts from others, and two because I was slightly embarrassed to admit that God worked so hard to move me that morning, and I ignored Him. I ran back to my old ways when it is so clear to me now that He was trying to save me. He was trying to heal me, and I just kept running. Truthfully at times, I think I still am.

God saw my pain then, He sees it now, and He sees yours too.

What would it feel like to stop running, stop hiding, stop striving, and surrender to the only one who can truly heal us?

I know from experience, it’s worth it.

Thank you Lord for not giving up on me, even when I was ready to give up on myself. I pray that you would chase after and heal the broken hearted, just like you've done for me. We need you Father.

Amen