My salvation was never based on what others said about Jesus. I didn’t even believe the Bible, not really, until after I met Him. I was genuinely surprised at how I saw the scriptures once I knew Him myself. I was shocked at how my perception changed, as if the whole world had gone from dark to light in an instant. For me it had.

Who do I say Jesus is? He is my rescuer and deliverer, my superhero.

I was sitting in a crowd, alone with many people. But I was not a part of them. I couldn’t be. I was something different. I didn’t belong with them, though I longed to. I wanted to be loved. I wanted desperately to be seen. But I was utterly invisible. That day would be my last. I felt a bit of joy with the decision. I was 15.

The man in the front was going on and on. He was irrelevant to me. A preacher in a suit with stupid hair and arrogance so thick I could barely see him through it. On and on, he spoke words that meant something to all those people but not to me.

Suddenly, awkwardly, he stopped talking. He paused for a few moments and looked around the room seriously. He sighed and seemed genuinely concerned. When he spoke he changed my life.

“The Lord has told me someone in the congregation is contemplating suicide,” he said.
I froze. I’d been seen!
“Who is it?” He asked. “Stand up.”
I did not move, not a muscle. But in my heart I was screaming, “Please, God.”
Did God see me?
He waited patiently. When no one stood up he said, “Well, God knows who you are. We’re going to pray for you anyway.”

The place erupted like a volcano. They prayed for God to break the power of the Spirit of Suicide in Jesus’ name. Hymnals scattered the floor, the crazy people spoke in tongues, all the people I was not a part of lifted me up and they did not even know who I was.

I felt it lift. Dead weight, like a wet blanket, pulled up and away in an instant. What I noticed first was the back of the metal chair I was holding onto so tightly. It was cold. I could feel it. It seemed like I hadn’t really felt anything in so long. I wanted to grab a hold of everything. I wanted to run outside and touch the trees. I wanted to scream and force the new air out of my lungs, the air I could feel for the first time in years. And I loved. I loved the woman with the tambourine behind me. I loved the stupid guy with the glasses in front of me. I loved you.

Fast-forward a couple of weeks and I am back in the throes of parenting my young blessings. At this point my quiet time consists of searching an online concordance for every verse in the Bible containing the word discipline. I plan to use whatever verse I find as a weapon against one or all of my children because this feels a lot like a battle. Somehow, I remember that my children are a reward…what planet was that on, again? Well, the Lord has other plans for my quiet time, and He leads me to Hebrews 12. There is a lot about discipline here—this should be good. Hebrews 12:6 says, “the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son.” Yes, I do love my children and must, therefore, discipline them.But verse 7 is where I realize that this passage is not as much about me disciplining my children as it is about the Lord training me: “Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons.” Later on in verses 10-11: “Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.”

I begin to realize that child rearing is as much about training myself as it is about training my children. Whatever patience I have was developed while waiting for my children to learn immediate obedience. Whatever measure of self-control I display is a spiritual victory over my fleshly desire to yell at the top of my lungs, “Because I said so!”

Even my commitment to consistent, meaningful quiet time with God was made out of a desperate need for His guidance in the everyday battles of sibling rivalry and childish disobedience. Where would I be without the “hardship” of everyday life as a Mom?

The writer of Hebrews actually says that this passage about discipline should be encouraging to us (v.5). We should endure hardship as discipline, and we can be encouraged in the hardship because the Lord disciplines those He loves. He disciplines us so “that we may share in his holiness” and so that we may have a harvest of righteousness and peace. I could really use some holiness, righteousness and peace in my life. It almost makes me want to yell at the top of my lungs, “Bring it on!” Fortunately, in the last several years, I have developed a little self-control.