Now to that conversation.. that “aha” moment, if you will. Has there ever been a conversation in your life that marked you? One where you can look back and say “that changed me.”?
I’ve had one of those and somehow it has led me here… writing these words… which is weird in and of itself for multiple reasons that I’m sure I’ll get to as I carry on…
My aha conversation came in the spring of 2025 after receiving this text: “You haven’t bought me a vanilla chai tea in a while. Smile. Do you have time next week to catch up?”
My Pastor, who is a second father to me, and I had a history of meetings where we’d sit with a muffin and a vanilla chai tea and discuss life, but we hadn’t had one in a long while… at least a year or two. I thought it was odd but refreshing, since we hadn’t had any one-on-one time in a while, and agreed on a date the following week.
At this point in my life, my husband had been away at the police academy for the last four months, I’d been working in a special unit in my department that took a lot out of me, and life just… was.
I knew he probably wanted to get onto me because I’d not been very present at church lately.
I had been an active member of the church’s worship team — a team I’d served on for nearly all of my late teens through adulthood — but I’d stepped down with the excuse that my job made me unreliable. Though true, it wasn’t the true catalyst for my decision to step down.
I was right. The conversation began as it normally did—catching up, talking about my husband, the kids, life, how I’d been really working on my physical health, and then he jumped right in.
The conversation would shift to him addressing my spirituality and my life. The fact that he’d been my pastor since age 12, but more effectively, my best friend’s father, he’d had a front row seat to my life as I grew up. I should’ve known better than to think the life I was living was going to get by him.
See, I had excuses to step down from the worship team I’d been serving on and miss a few Sundays, but the reality was that those were just excuses —the tip of the iceberg.
Over the last year or so, I’d begun to lose who I thought I was. I’d been going to therapy (for reasons we’ll get to), and while it was helping me understand a bit of myself, I also lost myself in a sense. Who I thought I was – this Christian girl who sang on the worship team and raised babies and led ministries – was a bit out of touch. I began trying to find myself in ways I hadn’t before. An identity crisis that had emerged around 5 years before had finally taken over.
I’d gradually become a recluse.
Missing church started off subtly, even before my husband went to the academy. Someone in the house wasn’t feeling well…. I was out late on a work call-out… my husband only being home on Sundays… the excuses came easily. What used to be a non-negotiable had turned into an easy yes- I’d begun to miss services more and more.
Over the months leading up to my stepping down, more and more excuses came. It was true; it seemed every time I was scheduled to sing, something at work would come up and keep me from rehearsals. But, beyond that, I was not enjoying worship anymore. It became a task rather than an act of honoring the Lord and serving.
I’d also begun secluding myself in relationships—missing a call while I watched my phone ring, saying I was too busy for a night with friends even though I had nothing on the schedule, not going to small group anymore… You get the gist.
What I thought wasn’t noticed… was… and it all led me to this conversation with my pastor. I had found myself in a place of numbness and struggling spiritually, and he noticed and wasn’t letting it slide.
As we talked, I explained away the absences and just said life is hard, my job was hard, and I was just trying to get through…
As we talked, he explained that he had a picture in his mind of me in a boat out on the water. He said that this boat was connected to the dock by a rope—a tether. For my whole life, the waters hadn’t been steady, but he said that the boat (me) was always tethered and holding to the dock (the Lord). He said my strength was shown in the battles I faced in life because I always held firm and knew where the base was.
My whole life, I’d battled things and had many hard moments, but that rope was tied to this dock—the Lord— and no matter what happened, I was always tethered and pulling myself back.
In this moment, though, he felt that the rope had almost run out and there was not much room left before I lost the grip and couldn’t pull my way back to the dock.
And if I’m honest, he was right on the money.
The conversation didn’t fix it immediately.
It planted a seed….
I entered a space of self-reflection. Well… actually, I pouted about it for a while. But that seed that was planted began to grow. Little moments here and there began to occur, leading me to where I am now.
That conversation was an eye-opener. I would slowly find the Lord nudging me in little moments.
I’d suddenly found myself with this desire for knowledge. If you know me, you know that reading is not something I do well. I made it my goal in 2019 to finish just ONE book for the year and even that was a feat!
Over the last few years, though, I’d found a small joy and reprieve in reading fiction books, and that one a year has turned into finishing multiple books a year. Though, not fruitful books that did much for my knowledge or spiritual life, the fact that I was able to finish books now is something that prepped me for this next phase in my life.
I felt the urge to actually read the Bible. If you take a look at my bookshelf, you’ll see over 20 spiritual books, Bible studies, leadership novels, etc., that have gone unfinished over the years. At the time of this conversation, I was 34 years old, and I had never fully read the Bible. And what I had read, I either didn’t remember or didn’t understand.
I remember asking my Pastor once where I should lead a new believer in the Bible, and he told me to always tell them to start with the gospels. So…. That’s what I did. I started the gospels.
As I read… I found myself with the unsettling question… “Did I ever really have a relationship with the Lord? Did I ever really know Him?
For those who know me, that statement might come with a raised eyebrow or a quiet question: “But Megan… haven’t you always known Him?”
I’ve been in church nearly my whole life. I started leading worship as a teenager. I was at youth group events four to six days a week. I led the Christian club in high school. Yes—all of that is true.
But if I had died during this season, I believe I would have fit Matthew 7:21–23. I would have heard the words, “Depart from me, I never knew you.”
I’ve had conversations with multiple friends about “why” I follow Jesus. I have friends who aren’t believers, and I have tried to share my faith just by the way I live—by sharing my experiences. I do think that I have a foundational understanding that Jesus has always been with me. But… can Jesus say the same about me? Have I always been with him?
There have been seasons in my life where I felt extremely close to God. Moments where I experienced Him in ways I couldn’t explain. But there were also hard moments when the rope could have run out, but instead I’d find myself clinging to it, knowing there was safety and connection in that tether. Sure, there were stretches where I created distance. There were stretches where I lived my life, made my choices, and didn’t think much about where He actually was in it. But overall, I always just knew He was there.
I wasn’t always living exactly connected how I should be, but that tether was still there. When distance came, I always knew where to go.
For a long time, I thought that meant I knew God.
I thought that because I knew how to pray, worship, or put on a good Christian girl’s face… I must have had a real relationship with Him.
But the time reflecting made me see things differently. I’ve gone to therapy (and quit because I got scared). I’ve had hard conversations with my best friend and my sister… and I’ve had reality checks with my Pastor.
I ask the question “did I ever really know him?” because there are many places in my life that have gone unchecked- there are many places in my life where I haven’t “proven” myself. I’ve stayed on the milk, if you will, of the word and never took time to get to know the Lord beyond feelings of expression and song.
This story will lead to a reflection on my lack, but it is really meant to focus on the one conclusion I have come to. I may not have always been the best version of a follower of Christ, but God has continually kept me in his sight.
In the moments where I was at the end of the rope, and it looked like there was nothing left to hold on to, the Lord was there, adding just a bit more rope.
Even when I created distance…
Even when I didn’t fully understand Him…
Even when I wasn’t living like I was connected at all…
I was still tethered to Him. He was not letting me go.
I ask, did I ever really know him—and what I mean by that is, where did this relationship come from without a biblical foundation of knowledge of the God I serve?
The more I look at my life—the chaos, the instability, the relationships, the identity questions, the moments I should have been completely lost— the more I can see it. There was something (someone) holding me in place… even when I didn’t realize it.
I may not be able to spout scripture and relate it to a situation… yet. But, I can tell you that I know that I know God. I know that He is real and has been with me. I know that I have been tethered to the one who knows and loves me.
This isn’t a story about a perfect relationship with God.
It’s not a story about always getting it right.
It’s a story about all the ways I could have drifted away…and didn’t.
Not because I was strong enough. Not because I always chose right. But because somehow—
I was being kept.
If you’ve made it this far, thank you for sticking around and allowing me to share a piece of my heart with you.
This is only the beginning. This story didn’t start in 2025, but the girl it found in 2025 was forged in fire. Those stories will come week by week.
Bear with me. I’m new at this, and it can get a little rough. But I know the Lord is here.
Thanks for being here with me. See you next post.
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