A Well Decorated Grave: When God Calls You Out of a Life That Looks and Feels Good

This Resurrection Sunday people in my church were giving testimony of God pulling them out of the pits in their lives—so obviously graves they were living in—now being raised in life. We’re talking deep addiction, homelessness, sickness, etc. Situations that most would consider and think “yep, a real pit”. This is my personal Christian testimony of hearing God’s voice and leaving a life that looked full—but wasn’t truly alive.

When your life doesn’t look like a pit and feels like a party

I started to think about my own testimony. I was hardly pulled out of what I would consider at the time “a pit”, and it certainly didn’t feel or look like a grave. I actually really loved my life…like, a lot. In my mind, I was making it—I was right where I wanted to be. And no, I didn’t necessarily feel “empty” despite having exactly what I wanted…as I’ve heard in some testimonies. Honestly, I was feeling good about myself and what I had going on. And there’s no way anyone who was a part of my life at the time would’ve thought “man, that girls living in a pit, a real grave—she needs rescuing”. It would be disingenuous to pretend I was at anything than what I would consider a high point in my life.

I remember a moment where I remembered God in the midst of it. I hadn’t prayed or spoken to Him in what had to be months? Maybe a year or so? I can’t remember because He was so much so not a part of what I had going on. I had spent my life until then very in and out, and in college I had completely walked away from my faith. In that one moment of remembering I shot up a prayer that went something along the lines of “wow God, thanks for this life you’ve blessed me with, I love it…you’re the best”. lol.

Up until that point I hadn’t ever really had an encounter where I sensed a voice that was not my own speak back to me. But what came next leveled me, and changed the entire trajectory of my life.

The moment I heard God’s voice

I sensed a voice say something along the lines of — “Meghan, I had nothing to do with this. I didn’t build this, and you didn’t build this with me. You built this all on your own. I don’t bless it. I have so much more for you—a great adventure. But you’ll have to leave everything you’ve built.”

I was…not excited by this. I remember I started shaking and crying because the weight of what I had sensed was incredibly heavy. My first instinct was “no”. I was in love. We had just gotten a dog. I loved where I lived. I made and spent my money just the way I wanted to. I loved how I spent my days, and even moreso, how I spent my nights. If I walked away—I’d be walking away from everything I had ever worked for or wanted. And I couldn’t believe the audacity of God to speak to me in such a way.

Over the next week this experience sat with me. I couldn’t shake it. Believe me, I tried. I wanted it to all be in my head. How would I explain making such a decision based on something I wasn’t even sure I believed in? How would I explain to the person I loved that I was leaving everything we built…because of a part of me I never even really shared with them?

Yet still…the sense that what I had heard was so much bigger than me would not leave me. There were several strange coincidences and incidences that week that would confirm that maybe this wasn’t all in my head. And if this wasn’t all in my head…who would I be to look God in the face and say “no”? I came to the decision that if this was real (and I wasn’t really sure it was…for even months to follow)—I had to go all in. I couldn’t turn my back on it. I had been so half in/half out my whole life that this felt like the last real “go”. Like, if I gave up every single thing I loved, and God was real, then He had to show up. And if He didn’t? That was it for me. I was all out. It wasn’t necessarily an ultimatum, but I was done being lukewarm in both directions, and I was willing to be wrong about this whole thing.

So, I left. It was the hardest leaving I have ever experienced.

Most people talk about the freedom and peace they immediately experience after following God. Not me. I experienced deep depression and crippling anxiety. I traded everything I loved and wanted in life for a room in my parent’s basement, completely heartbroken and unemployed with no direction at 26.

A decade later, and I can assure you what I heard that day was the voice of God. And what He said was true—He had a great adventure for me. He has never left me or forsaken me since I made the decision to leave it all. But it has not been easy, and it definitely hasn’t always been fun.

This Resurrection Sunday as I still wondered where my “grave moment” was. I heard that same voice I heard over a decade ago say “Meghan, I did call you out of the grave, you had just gotten really good at decorating it just the way you wanted it that you didn’t even recognize where you were. You had painted the tomb walls your favorite color, and had gotten very comfortable with where you were that there was no urgency or interest in leaving.”

And as I reflect back on who and how I was a decade ago—I know this to be true. I had “achieved”, I had the relationship, I had the life I had dreamt of. And I was still so broken, I was still so unhealed. I kind of shudder to think about how and who I was back then. Honestly, there’s an embarrassment about it. Baseline I lacked true peace—a steadiness…or even a real joy, my happiness was so contingent. And that’s just what was probably easy for anyone to see. But underneath the surface I was jealous, angry, codependent, and unstable. And tbh, those are just the things I’m willing to list out loud. Being in my mind and my body now versus then—without a doubt I was a dead man walking, wrapped in grave clothes—that happened to be purchased at Aritzia for about $500.

Am I walking out, or moving back in?

Even now, It’s a question I’ll continue to ask myself and reflect on, because I don’t believe this is a one time thing—am I just redecorating the tomb? Or am I walking out of it? Because believe me, in these last 10 years I’ve definitely found myself moving back into that grave and bringing my favorite furniture with me.

Said to be Jesus’ empty tomb in Israel—a reminder that resurrection is not just history, but an invitation into new life.