Are you sitting down? This is my testimony…
I did not come to know Jesus in a straight line. Not even close.
I wasn’t raised with a halo of hymnals or tucked neatly into a pew each Sunday. I didn’t look like the picture-book “Christian” in the minds of others. Far from it. My life has been a potholed zigzag road of late nights, booze, drugs, judgement, defiance, heartbreaks, mistakes, and searching in all the wrong places for something that could not be found in the world.
And yet… He was there. He was always there.
Every time I ignored Him, turned away, or drowned myself in distraction, He stayed. By my side. Patient, steady, like the best kind of friend, the kind who waits through your silence, the kind who loves even when you’re unlovable. There were so many years of signs, so many little “coincidences” that weren’t coincidences at all (Kairos moments I guess). Too many moments where the weight of life could have crushed me, but somehow didn’t. Too many times I should have fallen apart, but instead found a strange peace, an unexplained strength, a whisper of love that I could no longer deny.
Finally, one day, I stopped running.
I opened my heart in a moment of near destruction, in the midst of a chaos of my own creation.
I said, “Jesus, come in. I need you now.”
And, He did. He saved my life… more than once in fact.
It was not lightning or thunder, not stained glass or choirs, it was something far more tangible. It was love. A love that had been following me all along. A love that had already paid the price for me, long before I ever said His name.
I was finding My Center.
I have called myself a follower of Jesus for decades now, but I’ll be honest, something has changed in these last few weeks. When I lost the job I thought I’d retire from, my world could have collapsed. I could have spiraled into bitterness, anger, despair. But instead, I found my center. In the silence of those first days of unemployment, He was closer to me than ever before. I began to see clearly what had been true all along: my worth was never in a paycheck, never in a title, never in the world’s definition of success. My worth has always been in Christ.
Now, I would bet some people might not even recognize me these days, and that’s OK. That’s kind of the point. Because the old self has been crucified, and the new has risen with Him. The “Hippie Jesus Freak” I guess.
I’m not ashamed to be a hippie Jesus freak. In fact, I smile with pride when I say it.
Because what is more counterculture in this world than grace?
What is more radical and rebellious than forgiveness?
What is freer than love that refuses to let go?
I think about the songs my mother and uncles played that shaped my youth, songs of peace, songs of freedom, songs of love that pushed back against the gray machinery of the world. And now I see they were echoes of a deeper song, a holy rhythm that was strumming my soul even then.
I picture Jesus barefoot on the hillside, not in polished shoes or pressed robes, but dust on His feet, hair in the wind, laughter in His voice as He sat with fishermen and wanderers, tax collectors and women of the street. The ultimate outsider. The original counterculture.
And, when I look in the mirror, I see that same wild spirit reflected back at me:
A little rough around the edges.
A believer in peace over power.
A singer of songs that stir the soul.
A heart on fire with the kind of love that can’t be contained by walls, pulpits, or rules.
“Jesus freak” used to be an insult.
Now it feels like the highest compliment.
Because, if loving Jesus makes me different, if it makes me seem strange to the world, then so be it. Call me a freak, a flower child, a barefoot pilgrim wandering through this broken world with a heart wide open. I’ll wear that tie-dye crown proudly. I won’t hide my light…
Like the old song says:
“All we are saying… is give peace a chance.”
That’s the revolution I signed up for. The revolution of love. True tangible Love.
When I say I love Christ, it is not abstract. It is not just theory or theology. It is tangible. It is the breath in my lungs. It is the peace that steadies me when the world shakes. It is the voice that whispers hope when everything feels lost.
And now I know, He was there all along.
Even when I didn’t believe, He believed in me.
Even when I didn’t love myself, He loved me.
And He loves you too. Right where you are. Not once you “get it together.” Not once you clean yourself up. But right now. As you are. Where you are.
If I’ve learned anything, it’s this: Jesus doesn’t walk away when we do. He doesn’t measure us against a textbook picture of “Christian.” He meets us in our mess, and He stays until we’re ready to open the door. And, once you do… once you truly invite Him in… there is nothing more real, nothing more beautiful, nothing more life-changing than that Love.
Amen.
