Story of Anne.

Anne Lamott, a fellow messy Christian describes perfectly what happens when Jesus pursues us. In her book Traveling Mercies, Anne recounts her conversion to Jesus. Things were not going well in her life: addicted to cocaine and alcohol, involved in an affair that produced a child whom she aborted, helplessly watching her best friend die of cancer. During this time Anne visited a small church periodically. She would sit in the back to listen to the singing and then leave before the sermon. During the week of the abortion, she spiraled downward drowning her sorrows in alcohol and drugs. The abortion had left her bleeding and finally she collapsed on her bed, smoked a cigarette and fell asleep.

“After a while, as I lay there, I became aware of someone with me, hunkered down in the corner, and I just assumed it was my father, whose presence I had felt over the years when I was frightened and alone. The feeling was so strong that I actually turned on the light for a moment to make sure no one was there- of course, there wasn’t . But after a while, in the dark again, I knew beyond any doubt that it was Jesus; I felt him as surely as I feel my dog lying nearby as I write this.

And was appalled.....I thought about what everyone wold think of me if I became a Christian and it seemed utterly impossible thing that simply could not be allowed to happen. I turned to the wall and said out loud “I’d rather die”.

I felt him just sitting there on this haunches in the corner of my sleeping loft, watching me with patience and love, and I squinched my eyes shut, but that didn’t help because that’s not what I was seeing him with.

Finally I fell asleep, and in the morning, he was gone.

The experience spooked be badly, but I thought it was just an apparition, born of fear and self-loathing and booze and loss of blood. But then everywhere I went, I had the feeling a little cat was following me, wanting me to reach down and pick it up, wanting me to open the door and let it in. But I knew what would happen: you let a cat in one time, give it a little milk, and then it stays forever.

And one week later, when I went back to church I was so hung over that I couldn’t stand up for the songs, and this time I stayed for the sermon, which I just thought was so ridiculous, like someone trying to convince me of the existence of extraterrestrials, but the last song was so deep and raw and pre that I could not escape. It was as if the people were singing in between the notes, weeping and joyful at the same time, and I felt like their voices or something was rocking me in its bosom, holding me like a scared kid, and I opened up to that feeling and it washed over me. ‘’

I began to cry and left before the benediction, and I raced home and felt the little cat running along at my heels and I walked down the dock past dozens of potted flowers, under a sky as blue as one of God’s own dreams, and I opened the door to my houseboat, and I stood there a minute, and then I hung my head and said “I quit” I took a long deep breath and said aloud, “‘

All right. You can come in.” This was my beautiful moment of conversion.