I likely will come up short in most lofty debates on theology that requires every “T” crossed and every “I” dotted. I am still a work in progress.

 

However, I still believe in the mystery of the Godhead and the child-like faith required to live out this supernatural life in Christ. Many prefer to have a God they can explain. I’m pretty happy serving The One my human brain can’t wrap itself around most times. His love is often unexplainable.

 

I know The One that raises the dead, calls abandoned women to proclaim Him to entire cities, heals the sick, eats with sinners, and knows my deepest heartache. The only God who speaks to His sheep and they know His voice.

 

I am pretty sure I would not be invited to the table in many arenas. Yet I am fully persuaded I have been offered a seat with the King of Glory. As have you.

 

So I sit back in my reserved seat at the feast with my feet dangling, barely touching the ground. I’m dressed in my favorite Cinderella dress because He has given me a royal position to reign with Him. Of course, I am proudly sporting my crown. Occasionally He has to straighten it for me when the days get hard.

 

And yes, at times it feels like the mean ole’ step-siblings have locked me (us) in the attic to remain unseen. But, you see, I know the ONE who holds the key.

 

The grave couldn’t hold Him, nor shall it hold me.

 

Signed,

One of His girl fishermen just trying to catch some fish…