Episode 4: The Door That Finally Opened

Hey everybody! Welcome back to the Wholehearted Woman Podcast. I'm Chris Ray, and this is your heart room. A place where your story is safe, your pain is welcome, and you never have to pretend to be okay. If you're just finding this podcast today, welcome. I'm so glad you're here. Before we go any further, I want to invite you to go back and start with episode one because what we're feeling here is a journey. Each episode carries the one before it, and I wouldn't want you to miss a single step of the road from walking together. And for those of you who have been here from the beginning, welcome back. We've walked through some of the tender places these last few weeks. The little girl listening to footsteps, the lie that said something was wrong with her, the floor giving away beneath her, and then the years of searching, well after well after well, and always coming back thirsty, never finding enough. Last week I left you with a promise. I told you that the door that finally opened did not lead to a career. It led me into the arms of Jesus, who had been waiting for me the entire time. And today I want to keep that promise. I want to take you back to the job search. Months of interviews, months of rejection, months of closed doors. And if you've ever been through a season where you're doing everything right and nothing seems to be opening, you know what that does to a person. Especially a person who has already spent years searching for something her soul couldn't find. The desperation was familiar, just wearing different clothes. Speaking of clothes, I had been going to interview after interview and dressing exactly the way everyone says you should. The black, conservative, safe outfit. The kind of outfit that says, I'm capable and I will not surprise you. But after so many interviews and so many closed doors, something shifted in me. I found myself standing in a clothing store looking through rack after rack, and I was thinking, I need to try something different. But I didn't want to be too bold. I wanted to still be safe. I just felt I needed something different. And then I saw it. It was a blazer, it wasn't dark blue, it was light blue, it wasn't turquoise, but it was like nice vibrant sky blue. It was soft and confident and a little unexpected, for me anyway. And instead of the usual skirt, I decided to wear slacks. And I put my hair up and I took a chance. I remember thinking, this is it. The day of the interview arrived, I was escorted into an office, and a few moments later the interviewer walked in. And wouldn't you know? And I'm not kidding you, we were wearing practically the same outfit. We both stopped, looked at each other, and burst out laughing. This wonderful, warm, unexpected laughter before a single interview question had been asked just relaxed both of us. And it said something that this is different, this door is different, and everything about this was different. So we had the interview, everything went well, and a few days later she offered me the job. At the time, I thought she was the answer to months of my searching, and I thought she was the reason the door had finally opened. You know, that God just opened the door, and here I was with a new experience and the right job. That's what I thought. But God had something much bigger in mind. I arrived from my first day at Columbia College in February. There were new faces, it was a whole new environment, new rhythms. And the woman who was assigned to train me to walk me through everything I needed to know about my new role, which took about two weeks, was a woman who later became a very close friend. At first, she was simply my trainer. She was professional, she was warm, she was thorough, the kind of person who immediately put you at ease. And as the days passed, we spent more time together and began sharing pieces of our lives. And little by little I learned who she really was. I learned she was a pastor, and that was intriguing to me. And she was sharing about the church she had in the Bronx, it was a home church, and something immediately inside me paid attention. I didn't fully understand why. I only knew that I had spent nearly 20 years searching for truth, searching for healing, searching for God in the places that were never quite satisfied. And now sitting across from me every day was a woman carrying something I didn't yet have words for. So we started having lunch together. Conversations began friendship. And then one day, somewhere in May, just a few months after I started the job, we went for a walk. It was an ordinary walk, the kind of moment that looked completely insignificant to anyone passing by. But heaven had other plans. As we walked, she turned to me and asked a question, Chris, would you like to give your life to Christ? And she shared other things that she felt were significant, that the Lord was sharing with her, and I can't remember them and wish I could. But suddenly 20 years stood before me. Twenty years of searching, twenty years of questions, twenty years of trying to understand what my soul was hungry for, twenty years of looking for something I could never quite find. And the answer that came out of my mouth was simple. It was a yes, and before I knew it, I was on my knees and she was leading me to Jesus. I felt something rush through me like life itself were flooding the places that had been empty for years. Something poured through me, washed me, filled me. I can't fully explain it because words are too small for what happened that day, but I know and knew it was him. It was Jesus, not another teaching, not another philosophy, not another well. The person I had been searching for my entire life. And there, on an ordinary afternoon that I could never have imagined, during an ordinary walk with an ordinary friend, I met the one who had been pursuing me all along. But here's what still fills me with wonder. God was moving toward me long before that walk, long before the job, long before my friend the pastor, long before I understood what was happening. In the weeks before I was hired, something strange had begun stirring inside me. An overwhelming need to repent. I didn't know where it was coming from. I didn't understand it. I didn't know anyone around me I could ask. I just knew something deep inside me was crying out. So I did the only things I knew to do. I considered going to a Catholic church and sitting in confession. And looking back now, what amazes me is that I wasn't rebelling against God. I wasn't running from him. I wasn't resisting him. I was looking for him. My heart was crying out for something I couldn't yet name. I needed forgiveness. I needed cleansing. I needed God. I needed someone to heal what all these years of searching had never been able to touch. And at the time, confession was just simply the only place in my mind I could imagine going, the only picture I had for bringing my brokenness somewhere. But what moves me now is this: God wasn't wanting me to find the right door. He was already moving toward me. Before I understood grace, before I understood repentance, before I knew Jesus, before I knew where to go. He knew exactly what I needed. And he met me anyway. I prayed the rosary. I recited the Hail Mary's every day. Not because anyone told me to, not because of religious obligation, but because it was the only language I had at that time. My heart was already moving toward God before I had the language for what was happening. Before I understood repentance, before I understood grace, before I knew Jesus. He was drawing me. And I was responding the only way I knew how, with everything I had. And I want you to hear this. The God I discovered is not the distant God of religion. He is not standing far away waiting for you to get everything right before he comes near you. He is the God who moves towards you while you're still fumbling in the dark. The God who understands borrowed prayers, half-formed faith, messy beginnings, the God who meets you right where you are. And then came a conference. So I was invited to her home church. And for the first time in my life, I experienced something I had never found in any of the wells I had been drinking from. Even the deep healing sessions I had didn't come close. The presence of God, real people, real love, people completely surrendered to Jesus. I was overwhelmed. And then my pastor told me about a conference I should go to. It was a woman named Katie Sousa whose ministry focused on healing the soul. And my pastor believed I needed to be there. She thought that I would definitely need it. So we got in the car and we drove four hours to get there. I remember wondering what I would find, what it would be like. And I remember hoping, longing, and wanting more, wanting whatever it was that had begun happening inside me since saying yes to Jesus. And then we pulled into the parking lot. And before I ever walked through the doors, and I'm not kidding you, before I heard a single speaker, before the conference even began, I was shaking. I still don't know how to fully explain it, but something inside me recognized what was in that place before my mind could understand it. Something in my spirit knew. And I walked through the doors and I began to just cry and cry and cry, not politely and not quietly. This was the kind of crying that came from the deep places in me that you didn't even know was there. I cried through the entire conference. The Lord was doing something in me. He was cleansing me, healing me, purifying me, and reaching into the places that 20 years of searching had never touched. And doing in a conference room what no book, no practice, no philosophy, and no well had ever been able to do. It was my first soul healing experience. The first of many, but the beginning of the deep inner healing work of the Holy Spirit that would continue in me for years even to this day. And it was the beginning of everything this ministry is built upon today. So I want to pause here and speak to you. Maybe you've spent years searching. Maybe you've tried everything. Maybe you've tried self-help books, spiritual practices, maybe you know about striving and wanting to succeed. And maybe something still feels untouched. Maybe you've prayed prayers in borrowed language because it was the only language you had. Maybe you've been reaching for something you couldn't quite name. And I want you to hear me. He sees you. He has always seen you. And if your heart is still searching, and if something in you keeps reaching, that may be evidence that God is already drawing you toward himself. You have not missed him, you have not gone too far, you have not searched in too many wrong places to find your way home. He is not afraid of your journey. He's in it with you. And the door that feels closed right now, the one you cannot seem to force open no matter how hard you try, may be the very door God is using to lead you somewhere for greater than you imagined. Because sometimes the closed door isn't rejection, sometimes it's redirection. And sometimes the door you think is about a job, an average job, is actually about a savior. I thought I was looking for him, but the truth is he was pursuing me all along. And next week we're going to talk about what happened after the encounter because meeting Jesus is just the beginning, not the destination. And what follows was the deep, sometimes painful, always transformative work of healing, of having wounds touched by the only hands that could truly heal them. And I think some of you are going to recognize that season too. So until then, bring your journal if you feel you want to take notes or remember something, because if something stirred in you today, I want you to have somewhere to put it. And know this you are seen. You're not too far gone, and the God who orchestrated a blue blazer, a job interview, a friendship, an ordinary walk, a four hour drive, and a parking lot just to bring one woman home. He is not finished with you either. So I love you, and I'll see you next week.