How Losing My Father Led Me to Finally Meet Jesus for Real

All my life, I’ve been searching for something I couldn’t put into words.

Maybe it was a feeling I was chasing. Maybe it was the right title, the right relationship, the right version of myself.

Or maybe it was something deeper like peace, purpose, a place to belong beyond the noise and the ache that lived quietly inside my heart.

I tried to fill it with knowledge, with spiritual exploration, with just about anything that promised enlightenment or relief.

And yet, no matter where I turned, something was always missing — like I was circling the truth but never landing on it.

I thought I’d found Jesus many times in my life.
I said the prayers. I read the verses. I showed up at church when life felt heavy and I needed saving.
But if I’m honest, I was chasing peace, not relationship.

In 1996, I hit the darkest moment of my life. I went to take my life and failed, obviously.
But failure doesn’t even feel like the right word. It was intervention.
Because in that moment, I heard a voice.
Not an idea. Not a thought.
A voice.

It wasn’t booming or dramatic — just still and steady.
And it said, “I’m not done with you yet.”

I didn’t know what to do with that.
So I did what I thought you were supposed to do. I picked up a Bible, went to church, sang the songs, and prayed.
It worked for a while. Then I drifted.

Searching Everywhere Else

I tried to fill the gap.
Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism — you name it, I gave it a shot.
I was a seeker, always searching, always learning.

I used to joke that I was a jack of all trades, master of none.
I knew a little bit about a lot just enough to sound deep, maybe even enough to be dangerous.

But underneath all the knowledge, I still couldn’t find peace.
Each path taught me something about compassion, stillness, or energy but none of them gave me what my soul was starving for: truth that stays when the world falls apart.

The Day Everything Changed

That day came on May 22nd, 2025 — the day my father died.
A day that forever changed who I am.
It was tragic, abrupt, and holy all at once.

Because that was the day I really met Jesus.

Not in the same way my dad did — not in the way that meant crossing over.
But in the way that means finally surrendering, finally letting go of control, finally knowing deep down that He is who He says He is.

It wasn’t a conversion moment. It was a collision — the place where grief met grace and I stopped running. I never realized how tired I was. 

I Don’t Know What to Do With It

If I’m honest, I still don’t fully know what to do with it.
I don’t know what it means for the long run, or what God will ask of me next.

But I do know this:
I’ve never been more in love with the Word of God.
I can’t get enough of it.
Reading it, studying it, researching it, praying over it not because I have to, but because I want to.

Every time I open Scripture, I see something new.
It’s like God is saying, “Now you’re ready to see this part.”
And somehow, it all makes sense — not in the mind, but in the heart.

“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” — Psalm 119:105

What This Has Taught Me

I know your story might look nothing like mine, but if you’ve ever wondered how to recognize when God is calling you deeper, here’s what I’ve learned so far:

• Pay attention to what no longer fits.
  Sometimes God closes doors not to punish you, but to protect you from staying small.

• Don’t rush to label your loss.
  What feels like an ending might be the beginning of a new kind of faith.

• Let the Bible read you.
  You don’t need to understand every verse. Just ask, “God, what are You showing me right now?”

• Follow peace, not performance.
  If it feels forced, it’s probably not faith.

• Remember, He’s patient.
  God doesn’t need you to be perfect. He just wants you to be present.

That’s what He’s been teaching me since the day I met Him for real.
I don’t have it all figured out, but I’ve never been more certain that peace isn’t found in understanding — it’s found in surrender.

💛 Coming Home to Truth

For the first time in my life, I’m not striving to understand God. I’m resting in Him.
And that rest has brought me peace I can’t explain.

The kind that doesn’t leave when things get messy.
The kind that whispers instead of shouts.
The kind that holds me steady when grief still tries to shake me.

I gave up everything I had built professionally to follow this call.
Every label. Every title. Every plan.
And I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Because nothing I’ve ever studied, achieved, or mastered compares to knowing Him — really knowing Him — and letting His Word reorder my life from the inside out.

☕️ Pull Up a Chair on the Porch

If you’ve ever been searching for peace, if you’ve tried to “figure out faith” or make sense of your own story, come sit with me on the porch.
We’ll pour the coffee, open the Word, and talk about what it really means to let God meet you right where you are.

☕️ Join me for Back Porch Chats — a space for honest faith, quiet courage, and barefoot truth-telling.

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