Anyone who has come to Christ knows all too well the rugged road that led to Him. We were like blind wanderers, stumbling down dark and dangerous paths, never really understanding just how close we came to losing our souls for eternity. We fought against the inner convictions He planted in our hearts. We resisted the gentle guidance of the people He sent our way, who were basically divine GPS systems pointing us back to Him. And, let’s be honest, we wallowed in the very things our conscience warned us against — especially when no one was around to see. We were lost in sin and loved it, or couldn’t even realize we were lost. Later, even when we hated it, we kept going, because it was the only path we knew.

Then came the moment when He finally caught up with us. He spoke to our hearts in a language only He could speak — and, surprise! — we understood. For the first time, we saw what truly mattered. With wide eyes, we tearfully, maybe even joyfully, accepted His Lordship over our lives. I personally have never lost the wonder of how such a broken, ragged road led me straight to Him. All those decisions — big and small — that I made without any intention to get closer to God, combined with the ones made for me, somehow shaped the trajectory of my life. And almost miraculously, it all brought me to that spectacular moment of surrender.

Sola Gracia. I was saved by grace alone, through faith. I didn’t exactly put in much effort, other than the effort to run in the opposite direction. And yet, there I was, found by the Savior.

Ephesians 2:1–5 puts it beautifully:
“As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world… like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ, even when we were dead in transgressions — it is by grace you have been saved.”

In one fell swoop, God proved His ability and dependability as a Savior. He orchestrated events so perfectly that He was able to find a lost, stubborn, blind sheep like me, woo me, redeem me, and make me His own. I knew, with absolute certainty, that just as He had worked everything together to bring me to Him, He would continue to work everything together for my good. He would provide for my earthly needs and keep me safe until I crossed into my eternal home.

But then, the unexpected happened. You see, I thought that once I accepted Jesus, anxiety, fear, and worry would automatically have to go find a new home. I mean, God’s got this, right? Well, not quite.

A month into my new Christian life, I found myself hit with high-octane waves of anxiety and fear. I was worrying about everything — from my sanctification, which I felt was progressing at the speed of a snail in a marathon, to the terrifying thought that I might die before I’d managed to “get it together.” I wanted to be holy, righteous, and faithful, and I wanted it yesterday.

I kept wondering why I still had a propensity for lying, lusting, and engaging in other bad behaviors that I knew displeased the Lord. I truly wanted to stop, but time and time again, I found myself too weak to resist temptation. And then, I’d think about my untimely death or the sudden return of Jesus, and the panic would set in. It was like auditioning for a role in the movie End Times Anxiety.

But those worries were nothing compared to the more “practical” fears: Would God show up when I needed Him, or would He leave me hanging, embarrassing me in front of all the people who knew I was a Christian? Gone were the days when I could cheat my way into a job or borrow without intending to pay back. Would I end up homeless and destitute because He failed to provide? Worse yet, what if I couldn’t find someone who would love me, because, you know, “Jesus freak” vibes?

Fast forward 14 years, and now I can look back and laugh — mostly. I’ve found Jesus to be a Savior who is very invested in His bride. His provision has never failed, though more often than not, it arrived at the last possible minute when I was sure I was about be toast. And when He said “No” to my requests, I eventually realized He had good plans ahead or was protecting me from something I couldn’t see. His “No” wasn’t a denial; it was a divine detour. When He allowed me to face difficult losses, I came out on the other side with a transformed heart. Just like Elisabeth Elliot, I came to realize I am never at the mercy of fate and chance. All things (joy, pain, rest, toil, grief, gain, etc.) in my life are ordered by the Lord to advance me in my spiritual journey. 

And then came the big revelation: Sanctification — the process of becoming more like Christ — isn’t a race. It’s more like a slow, daily marathon, advanced by the situations He orchestrates in my life and the growth the Holy spirit works in me as I face them.

It turns out, I didn’t need to worry about my growth or anything else for that matter. This hymn captures it:

Day by day, and with each passing moment,
Strength I find, to meet my trials here.
Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment,
I’ve no cause for worry or for fear.
He Whose heart is kind beyond all measure,
Gives unto each day what He deems best — 
Lovingly, its part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and rest.

So, here I am, still a work in progress, but no longer drowning in worry. And I’m learning to trust that He’s got it. Even when I forget, He never does.