So here is today's version of my testimony. I feel like there’s so much more to it, all those details, but I don’t want to make it too lengthy. Even if I were to rewrite it next week, or even tomorrow it would probably be a bit different. Most of all, because of this day I was given an amazing gift. Hope. And that is what I cling to and the one thing I could not live without.
There was more to life.
I knew it.
Now looking back I see how God was getting my attention.
But at the time I felt lost.
And I was searching without realizing that’s what I was doing.
I grew up going to Church.
Always believing in God.
It’s hard to boil everything down to make a quick synopsis
of becoming a Christian. I guess I still am becoming one.
Because really I now look back and see God pulling on me
over time.
It was like He was waking me up.
And over time there were those moments
where I thought of Him.
But in November, I really caught a glimpse.
I was 12.
I did something I never thought I could do.
I found myself crying when I got home from school and running into the bathroom, pulling my moms blow dryer cord from the wall and yelling at her to talk to me. I told her what happened and she called my dad sobbing telling him to come home quick. He rushed home and I saw the disappointment in his eyes.
That caught my attention, to see my strong dad so venerable and hurt. It nearly killed me. After several days of isolation in my room, my parents came in and told me they still loved me and then told me a story of who Jesus was and this exact thing is why He came back; to forgive me. My life wasn't ending, it was beginning.
I don’t remember exactly what they were saying.
All I remember
and I can still picture today
is watching their mouths speak of
a wonderful love.
Something so real.
I could see on their faces,
in their smiles,
and I had to know more.
Not a soul interrupted us and I’m thankful for that very moment.
That is the moment that I allowed the Lord into my heart.
They asked if I wanted to pray.
And in my head
over and over again
I kept saying
“No, I don’t want to pray.”
“Don’t pray.”
But nevertheless we prayed.
Not that I didn't want to, I just felt so embarrassed to talk with Jesus after what I had done.
I didn’t magically feel changed.
Maybe a bit perplexed.
And from there it was a process.
It’s still such a process.
Initially certain things changed pretty rapidly.
My language.
But really after this point
I know that God grabbed onto me.
And as I walk along this road of trying to follow Him
I just realize more and more that
I’m a walking contradiction.
A hypocrite.
But there’s no other way to be a Christian.
I mean we are called to be like Jesus.
Jesus. He was and is perfect.
So I’m realizing that every Sunday I meet up
with a group like myself,
a collection of hypocrites.
I keep singing out words that
I hope to live up to.
I sing on Sunday about how I want to be used by God.
And it’s like I’m praying to want that.
But really I think
that each day you wake up
you have a decision.
And that is,
“Do you want to live for Christ today?”
It doesn’t mean doing something dramatic or crazy.
But for me it’s just a perspective. A choice.
A reason to live. To hope.
Because my hope is to show His love to others
much like it was shown to me that rainy November day.
I hope you're encouraged to relive the moment your life was given to Christ.
