SUNDAY IN THE SOUTH ~ THE RESPONSE (Part 2 of 2)
What Came After ~
So, picking up where we left off…
After Pastor Luke called my name that Wednesday night in 2000, everything began to shift.
Not all at once — more like a slow sunrise. The kind you sit and watch unfold, knowing something big is coming. I started going to church regularly, reading my Bible, asking questions. But deep down inside, something inside me still felt unfinished.
I didn’t feel sealed.
I didn’t feel sure.
For the next three years, I kept chasing Jesus. And on August 27, 2003 — another Wednesday night — He met me right there in my living room.
It was a normal evening: supper, baths, and then bedtime for the boys. I’d started carving out some “me time” after I got the boys settled down to sleep and the house quiet. That night, it meant a bowl of soup, some crackers, and my Bible. I had started praying before meals — even though I didn’t really know how. I defaulted to the old childhood classic: “God is great, God is good…” Just trying to build a habit.
Not for me, really.
For them. For the boys.
I still thought I was too far gone.
But that night was different.
I hadn’t even made it two lines into that little prayer before I heard it — not out loud, but it landed so heavy in my spirit, it might as well have been.
“Get on your knees.”
Now if you know me, you know I’m full of questions. I’ve got the curiosity of a whole herd of cats. So my first thought was, “Why do I need to get on my knees over a bowl of soup?”
It wasn’t even Sunday pot roast.
It was Campbell’s.
But I got down in front of the ottoman, started over — and something broke wide open.
I began to thank Him — for my boys, their health, our family, the roof over our heads, my church.
Then I started to repent.
And then… I wept.
It was like watching a movie in my own head. Moment after moment flashed before me — poor decisions, painful consequences, things I’d buried deep. Then God did something I still can’t quite explain. He gave me a glimpse of His heart. Just a glimpse. For a moment, it was like He let me feel what He felt watching me walk through those things. The ache of a parent watching their child suffer. The pain of knowing you can’t force them to choose better — even when you love them more than they’ll ever know.
But unlike us, He could take it.
And that’s exactly what He did.
He reminded me that He’d been there through all of it — every trauma, every tear, every terrible decision.
He’d never left me.
And there was just one thing left to do.
I needed to know — once and for all — that I belonged to Him.
Because truth is… you can walk an aisle, fill out a three-by-five card, and get wet — baptized on the outside, but bone-dry on the inside. If there’s no repentance, no surrender, no real “Jesus, be the Lord of my life” moment, then all you really did was take a walk, sign your name, and have a fancy bath.
I had to be sure that when that sky splits and Jesus comes back — just like He promised — I’ll be going with Him, not stuck here wondering what just happened.
So I said it out loud:
Jesus, I’ve been playing church long enough, and it always leaves me empty. I knew there had to be more — and I know now that “more” is You.
I felt You here tonight, and this is the change I’ve been starving for. I’m not getting up off this floor until I know that I know I’m Yours — forever.
You’re mine. I’m Yours. It’s us from here on out. I’m buying the whole ticket.
I promise to do my best to follow You wherever You send me and do whatever You ask of me. I owe You my life — and I’m glad to give it.
So take it. Seal me tonight.
THE BREAKTHROUGH
And y’all… I came up off that floor grinning, weepy, and feeling like I just got paroled from prison.
You couldn’t tell me nothin’.
I felt like somebody had taken out the snake that’d been coiled around my spirit, squeezing the guts, the life, and the joy clean outta me — and I was finally FREE!
No big choir.
No laying on of hands.
No spotlight or altar call.
Just me, Jesus… and a can of Campbell’s.
And it was everything.
The little church in my living room — a quiet reminder of the night everything changed.
When I wrote the date in my Bible — August 27, 2003 — I realized something:
It had been almost exactly three years since I’d started seeking Him.
Three years since I bought that study Bible.
Three years since Pastor Luke called my name.
And I was thirty years old — the same age Jesus began His ministry.
Turns out, I wasn’t finding Him too late after all.
We were right on time.
Coming Full Circle
It’s July 2025, and I’m back at Carpenter Road for the church’s 50th birthday celebration — but for me, it was a homecoming.
As soon as we stepped inside that church, I felt it — it was as if I’d never left.
It was like walking into a house you used to live in. New people own it now, things are updated, but you still recognize the bones.
I stood there just soaking it all in — the grooves in the floor, the way the light still filters through those same windows. It was different, but still familiar. The once-small pulpit area now transformed into a full stage with musicians, lights, and a whole crowd of folks I didn’t recognize.
But the Spirit? Still the same.
There’s something holy about ground that’s been soaked in worship. I felt it the second I stepped in — before a word or a note ever hit the air.
I didn’t make it through a single song without tears.
The memories came flooding back, and then the band started playing a song I’d heard before, but never like this:
“I sought the Lord and He heard and He answered…
I sought the Lord and He heard and He answered…
I sought the Lord and He heard and He answered…
That’s why I trust Him.”
Now, my husband Jeff? He jokes that he gets the message after the first fifteen times.
Doesn’t need the extra forty-five.
But me? I needed every single one of them.
wHEN THE DOUBT CREEPS IN…
Because here’s the truth:
I know what God has said.
I know what He’s done.
But I still doubt — not Him, but me.
I doubt I’m worthy.
I doubt I’m enough.
Some days, I don’t even bother asking.
So when I stand in a sanctuary, hearing “I sought the Lord and He heard and He answered” on loop?
I need that.
I need the extra forty-five.
Not because He forgot… but because I did.
That day, it wasn’t just a song.
It was a reminder.
He still hears me.
Just like in 2000.
Just like in 2003.
He hears me now.
He still answers.
And He will never fail.
That’s one of two things God cannot do:
Lie or fail.
HOLY, HOLY, HOLY
Revelation 4:8 says:
“Day and night they never stop saying,
‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty,
who was, and is, and is to come.’”
Day and night.
It’s repetitive.
Because some things are too holy to say just once.
And some truths?
You sing them over and over… until your heart finally believes them again.
tHERE’S A SEAT SAVED FOR YOU…
So if you’re reading this, and you don’t know Jesus as your Lord and Savior…
Maybe you’ve never had a moment like mine — on the floor, heart cracked wide open, finally free.
Or maybe you’ve had a thousand almost-moments but something always pulls you back.
Maybe you’ve just been feeling that tug at your heart but can’t put your finger on it, but you know you don’t have peace.
This ain’t about clean hands or perfect stories — it’s about showing up messy and letting Him do the cleaning. You don’t need a plan or the right words. Just a heart honest enough to say, “Okay, Jesus.”
You need only to be willing.
Willing to say:
“Jesus, I need You. I don’t want to do this alone anymore. I believe You are Jesus, Son of God, who came and died for me on the cross ~ and I’m asking You to save me, walk with me, and never let go.”
That’s it.
It doesn’t take a big choir.
It doesn’t take laying on of hands.
Just you, Jesus… and maybe a can of Campbell’s.
And if you said that prayer — or even whispered it with doubt and shaky hope — here’s what I want you to do next:
Curl up in the Word of God and get to know Him. I’d start with reading the book of John in the New Testament.
Find a local church that teaches Jesus, grace, and truth — not shame.
Or reach out to me through Truth & Tallow. I mean it. I’ll walk this with you and help you get plugged in somewhere.
Because He really is coming back.
And I want you to know the peace of being ready — and the joy of finally coming home.