Freedom Story: Cara

Today Cara from Marvelous Flight of Cara is sharing her freedom story. 

Her story is beautiful. She tweets @marvelouscara

Thank you Cara for sharing!

I am a wretch.

A blashemer.

A woman covered in dirt.

I have lied,

cheated,

stolen,

hurt,

and destroyed goodness.

I have been angry,

seen no light,

and spread only darkness.

But then I became free.

I grew up in a Christian home led by two parents I respect more than anyone and think the world of. When I was just three years old, (on my third birthday, to be exact) I asked about Jesus, and I told my mom I wanted to believe on Him as my Savior and be saved from hell. I've always gone to church, been involved in VBS, and went to private school from preschool until third grade. But strangely, I didn't really grasp or even know about grace and freedom as what God's all about until... maybe I was 16 or 17. Strange, to think there was a time in my life that I didn't know about it, or focus on it, or make it my life's purpose; strange to live like a Christian and know of God and know His ways, talking to His Son, Jesus, having a relationship with Him, but not truly and deeply understanding His heart. So then He taught me. He showed me the difference between grace and legalism, he taught me freedom from my rebellion, respect out of my disrespect, patience out of my anger. He showed me the difference between walking in my flesh, and choosing to walk in the Spirit. I went to Bible school right out of High school, a school called New Tribes Bible Institute in Jackson, MI. I went to become a tribal missionary: one who would go to an unreached people group who had never heard the name of Jesus, and I would learn their language, and translate the Bible into it. After my first year being at school, I started struggling with health problems in ways I could have never expected, and the idea finally hit me that I might not get to be an overseas missionary. Then and there I was forced with a decision: did I believe that God's grace covered me even if I didn't becoming a tribal missionary? Did I believe that He would still fully accept me if that wasn't what my life was about? So there he freed me. There He opened my eyes to see that I am His child, that I am covered in the perfect and life-giving blood of His son who went to the depths of hell for me, and that to Him, I am white as snow. That even now, two and a half years later, living in California where I am confident He has led me to, still struggling day in and day out with health that nobody should have to feel while being this young, while I yell out my frustration at my husband, where I am a disrespectful wife, still learning to be freed from anger issues, where He has taught me and given me freedom from my enslavement to certain foods, that I indeed am free, and that He alone is the one who has and can free me. I am His daughter, and Satan can try all he wants but he will no longer convince me that I am enslaved, for Jesus has said that if he makes me free, I am free indeed. (John 8:36)