Not Fantasy, But Faith: A Quiet Moment of Saving Grace

Not Fantasy, But Faith: A Quiet Moment of Saving Grace

Date: Monday, May 5, 2025

Sometimes, the most profound moments don't arrive with thunder and lightning, but in the quiet stillness. After periods of intense emotional processing, exploring confusing dreams, and wrestling with the shadows of past pain, I found myself simply resting. It wasn't a state of deep meditation or active seeking, just a quiet pause in the day.

And then, unbidden, a thought arose – but it felt like more than just a thought. It landed with the weight of undeniable truth, a moment of pure, stunning clarity: Jesus saved me.

Immediately, tears came. As I’ve come to understand about myself, these weren't just tears of sadness, but tears of deep understanding, the kind that well up when a fundamental truth finally clicks into place deep within the soul. It was that familiar feeling, but magnified – an overwhelming sense of release accompanying this core realization.

It’s crucial for me to articulate that this felt utterly real – not some fantasy born of wishful thinking or emotional distress. Instead, it felt like the culmination of a long, often arduous, and very deep psychological process. It felt earned, not conjured. The foundation for this moment was built over time, through dedicated effort: immersing myself in His words, reading the teachings, trying to understand the message. And just as importantly, it came through the practice of listening – quieting the noise to try and discern that inner voice, that gentle guidance.

To understand, in that quiet moment, that I was saved – not just conceptually, but personally, deeply – shifted something fundamental. It reframed the struggles, the pain, the journey through darkness. It didn't erase them, but it placed them within a larger narrative of redemption and grace. The psychological healing and the spiritual salvation felt intertwined, two facets of the same restorative process, guided by engaging with His presence and message.

There's a quiet certainty that remains after the tears have dried. It’s the anchor of knowing, deep within, that the journey through darkness wasn't meaningless, and that the light that dawned in that moment of understanding was the light of salvation, personally received.

Only He really did it. He really did! I followed the path – through the darkness, towards the words, towards the voice. Tears! Awe! And now, alongside the release, there's this overwhelming, deep compassion for His sacrifice. He didn't even know me, and yet He died for me, enduring such horror. That reality lands with breathtaking force.