Passion. It is a strong word, is it not? When something just takes over you and you live for it. And sometimes you would die for it as well.

If you know me at all you have figured out I am a Christian. I am not afraid to talk about my Savior on this blog and I have dedicated my life to serving Him. Some would call that crazy. That’s cool. Go ahead. I do not mind.

But today is Good Friday. One of the most important events happened today. It is not the most important day of the Christian faith. That will be on Sunday. But today I reflect on His death. His pain.  His giving of His life for every stupid, arrogant, selfish thing I have done and will do. Today is a day I reflect the fact that I have placed Him on a cross. Not a group of people, not a city, not a nation. Me. Mariah. A stupid sinner. In need of a Savior.

I know this movie is so controversial. I’m not here to promote The Passion of the Christ. But out of the entire movie, the most influential moment, for me, came in the first few minutes. When Jesus is at the point where He knows what He must do. But if there is another way, can we go that route God? He is in the garden. My favorite scene. Why? Here I can see that transition from possible fear to complete resolve. The last moment of the video gives me chills. It shows His Passion. For us. The sinners. No matter the cost. Tonight I will watch a cross be built at a worship service. And I will think of me being the one building it.

But Sunday’s around the corner baby!

I began this post last Fall, but chose not to publish. I am not even sure why I am posting it today, but here it is. The “condensed” version:) It is the moments I had with God the night my 6 yr old daughter was taken from one hospital to a PICU for Swine Flu, double pneumonia and a collapsed lung. She spent the first 48 hours of a week long stay there in very serious condition. Her numbers where extremely high and her body was not handling it well at all. When PICU doctors come  in groups with their chin resting on their hand, just watching, then mumble to each other, you know it is not good:) It was right after we moved to Texas, no family and old friends near. Just a new church that had welcomed us into their open arms and took care of us, and a God that was not going to let us go through this alone.

Around 1am and it was the longest 12 miles I had ever driven. Amos had called to say they needed to take her to the PICU now. She was much worse. We decided I would go with her in the ambulance. The wipers did not work for me because it was tears blurring my sight. I was tired emotionally, physically, and mentally. Spiritually, well, that was a different story. I was very alert. See, God and I needed to have a talk. And it was not going to be a gooey prayer.

I had to peel back every layer that I held so dear. Comfort, desire for perfection, control, and strength had no place here. I was about to be real, honest, vulnerable, broken, and raw before my Lord.

I told Him exactly what I thought and how I felt. From “I will NOT accept this”, “If you take her, it will change You and I forever”, to “If you want this, Hannah to leave us, You are going to have to change my heart. I know I have to trust, but I want my daughter instead.”  It was a moment of sheer selfishness as a mother. And if I am honest, jealous, that He would even consider taking her.

I know. I know! I am a Christian. I know what I believe and I stand by that fully. Heck, I am a pastor’s wife! I should have total peace with whatever God places in my path, right? Well, I didn’t. Peace was not present at that moment. Not at a time when it was a real possibility that my daughter would not even make it to the PICU 35 miles away. Not at a time when her daddy kissed her knowing he may not see her again smiling back at him. THAT was where I was. So if I was going to voluntarily walk into acceptance I needed to give Him all my anger, fear, pain, questions, and doubt.

My first step into acceptance was dying to myself. Not an easy step to take is it?

And this was it. This was my moment to look into the mirror. What was going to be staring back at me? A woman who would walk away from her faith because the outcome was not what she wanted, or a woman who accepted Jesus Christ as her Guide for EVERY circumstance? Not just the 80° sunny days, but EVERY circumstance. EVERY trial. EVERY joy. EVERY pain. Even EVERY loss.

I was battling for the acceptance I knew I needed to have. I just would not give up easily. Not at the expense of my daughter. I wanted to say “whatever Your will is Lord, I will accept. Hannah living. Or Hannah dying. I know You will provide through it.” But all that could come out was “I know Your will is going to happen, I just cannot take it if she dies.” I was tearing. It was a fight to be faithful to my Lord over my own desire.

And He met me there. Right where I was. He took my blows and stayed in that car with me. He was in the ambulance with me, Hannah, the paramedic who was speeding, and the other paramedic who never glanced my way as we both just stared at the monitor with beeping red alarms. He was there in that PICU the following hours and days. He was there when she came back home with us too.

He was there because I know that to be Truth. He is there, guiding me, no matter what I go through. I had to go back to what I know and have witnessed about Him. His unconditional love, even when we place conditions.

Is it a painless journey to be a Christian? Hardly. Is it an easy road? Yeah right! I love people who describe Christianity as a “crutch.” The people who say that were not in that car with me that night. But my God was. Did we do something right to have her live? No. At times He gives. Other times, He takes. Why? Well, it is not for me to know why. I have experienced both the giving and taking in my life. And both have resulted in one common thing. My Faith has grown stronger and with each trial I am reminded that He has me in the palm of His hand. And there I will stay.

So what about you? Have you battled? What is YOUR story…?