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I was born in 1963, the third child to my parents who had both been married and divorced once before. Back then divorce was not as common, was not talked much about, at least not without some degree of shame. I was not even aware that my mother had been divorced the first time until I was 17 or 18 years old, a fact that I became aware of by sheer accident rummaging through old books on our bookshelf. My parents were divorced then from each other when I was young, maybe when I was 6 or 7 years of age. Being so young, I was mostly unaware of the problems between my mother and father, and by the time I can recall home life, my father was already not around much, no doubt by design, before they divorced. So I was mostly innocently oblivious to these happenings around me as is typical with very young children absorbed in their own lives, I suppose.
And so my childhood continued, happy I thought. I was spoiled, being the youngest of my mother’s children and being the most like herself, she indulged me and pampered me, at least as much as she could on a meager income. I was totally oblivious to the fact of my being spoiled at the time, as is often the case of the one who is being spoiled. This spoiling and indulgence had sad consequences as a result as it always does. The results from the lack of restraints on my forming life, my fiercely independent personality, and fearless nature, all helped propel my young life into hard and fast living— the kind of life that was talked about and watched in movies and television shows, the kind of life that so many my age were afraid to live unless I could coax them to join me, which I was often successful at. This is what life was all about though, right?! This is what would make me happy, give me pleasure, find me love or even fame— or so I thought. It did give me some of those things that their enticements offered, but oh, for a brief time only. By the time I was a Senior in high school and only 17 years old, I was already suffering the consequences of living like I did. The things that I had started doing for fun, pleasure, love, and various other self serving reasons, I now found I no longer had control of—- I could not stop. Suffering the consequences of these behaviors, these life choices and indulgences and then realizing that I no longer had control, left me sinking lower and lower inside, although unbeknownst to anyone, because my bubbly fearless personality masked this well. There was a religious aspect to my life, but it was in form only. I was raised in a Lutheran Church and I think attended regularly while a child. I was taught many things about God, and Jesus, and many bible stories at Sunday school. I was taught that Jesus died on the cross for my sins so that I could go to heaven. I liked that. I even remember being taught that, “Jesus was my PERSONAL Savior”. That was fine I guess. I went to a nondenominational Christian group for high schoolers when I was a freshman and sophomore sometimes. I liked it. We sang “feel good” songs and some crazy songs, had fun together, someone spoke of religious things and I was affirmed in my belief that I was a Christian, after all, Jesus had died on the cross for my sins so I could go to heaven — right? Then why was I now so low and sinking lower? So I graduated high school and was getting ready to go to college and in my desperation, my mind went back to this fun Christian group I had sporadically attended earlier in high school and I got a job working at a summer camp affiliated with this group. Much fun, and many emotional experiences later— dedicating my life to Jesus and rededicating my life to Jesus, I thought, “I AM a Christian now.” So I came back home on kind of a high and went to college. I found a like non denominational high school outreach in the town I was attending college in, and I became a leader. However, within a very short time, I was back, full tilt, into all the patterns of behavior I had been neck deep in before. So nothing had changed. I sunk lower than ever. I contemplated what the point of living at all was. And if it hadn’t been for a memory of someone telling me when I was a child, that anyone who killed themselves went straight to hell, (albeit what I now know as an unbiblical belief), I might have seriously contemplated suicide. The fear of hell though prevented it, thankfully. It was then when I was at this lowest point, this place of desperation, when I had nothing and could do nothing to change myself and knew it, that I received a phone call. It was from a woman that was an adult leader of the “Christian” high school group I was helping with. She had called to inform me that a young man might be contacting me. This young man who attended the same college with me had been attending the church she and her family went to, a tiny Baptist Church. After cornering him in her friendly manner one Sunday and asking him many questions, she had found out that although it was his second year at college, he had not met one christian on campus. She then proceeded to inform him that she knew a ‘wonderful Christian girl’ that went to that college (me) and must have described me and gave him my name and number or something. She then proceeded to tell me that he was a Pastor’s kid. *eyeroll* Just what I needed, I thought. So as I dreaded the contact of some weirdo, I went on with my college life, bubbly yet despairing, self destructing. When one day I went in to lunch early, as all the kids who were employed at the cafeteria could, and I walked straight into a guy, and our eyes met curiously. He looked at me. He was carrying a big crate of milk that was put inside those large cafeteria milk dispensing machines. I don’t remember who spoke first although it was probably me, being a very boisterous girl. “Are you him?” Of something like that I said. We ended up agreeing that we did indeed have that common acquaintance. So this was him. Hmm. He wasn’t some tall skinny weirdo with glasses, which is what I had pictured in my mind. He was short and stocky and serious. He was not impressed with me or seemingly interested in me, which surprised me I suppose as I loved to get attention, especially from the opposite sex, and dressed, carried myself and acted in such a way as to have success - - yet he didn’t seem to see me this way. He seemed uniquely content and peaceful. He was different. I immediately recognized something in him that was different than me. Something which I DID NOT have. I had no peace. If he was a Christian and I was a Christian, certainly one of us was wrong. I found myself trying to run into him, watching out my dorm room window to see when his car pulled up for work. I had a clear view of the cafeteria from my room. When I saw him I would quickly catch up and fall in stride with him so we could talk. What was it about him... I needed it, I was compelled to know, to be around this. He, having been raised in a Christian home where it had been instilled in him that relationships with girls were a serious matter not to be trivialized, did not know what to do with me. He hung around girls in a group setting at church, but not ‘one on one’ like that, and was wary and uncertain about this girl who eagerly hung on his words and in his presence. We would talk at lunch, we would talk walking to class. We didn’t really chitchat as it became clear immediately that he was trying to determine what I believed. I remember him asking me, “On what do you base your salvation?” No one had ever asked me that before. Why did I think I was a Christian?... Hmmm, “God loves me,” I remember answering. He agreed and continued probing and asking more questions. Another time I remember him asking me questions about how I lived. “What do you think of drinking? What do you think of dancing?” I don’t remember how I answered these questions at the time. I had been spending a lot of time doing both, out at bars whenever I could be. What I do remember is that it started to dawn on me that what I believed had a great deal to do with how I lived. That there was a connection, in fact there HAD to be a connection. He eventually determined that we could not go on as we were and so announced to me that if we were going to be friends that we needed to study the Bible together. “Ok!”, was my eager response. And so we did. We began in a book of the Bible called, Philippians. This time studying the Bible was like having my eyes opened. We read, we studied the text and I was understanding! The book is about joy, the joy of Christ in the life of a true believer in Christ. I was beginning to understand and have joy. I didn’t really think about the how or why of it at the time, instead I just eagerly lapped it up, drinking and drinking. Like the woman at the well, I was seeking,
For things that could not satisfy. And then I heard my Savior speaking-- "Draw from My well that never shall run dry." Fill my cup, Lord; I lift it up, Lord; Come and quench this thirsting of my soul. Bread from heaven feed me till I want no more. Fill my cup, fill it up and make me whole. This feasting on the word of God took hold. The resulting peace, joy and new found love for Jesus Christ compelled me to make drastic changes in my life. No person told me to make any changes, but it was the compulsion of new love, it was the shame that now had surfaced in the things I once taken great pleasure in. I purged myself of much of my clothing, of the music I had listened to, of many things that now held no pleasure. In retrospect I can see that I went overboard in this perhaps, although my innocent and zealous love for my Lord showed itself in new affections and new desires and correspondingly HAD to free itself from all it loved before and perhaps the memories that were associated with them. And in that child like love, I believe my Lord was pleased. And does not lavish love come from one who has been forgiven much? I’m reminded of a treasured portion of scripture in the gospel of Luke 7:36-50 -
Well, my life did a 180 degree change. Along with this great change came a great testing of my new found faith. My mother saw this dramatic change in my life and was upset. All the dreams she might have had for me were now lost, and she was no doubt afraid as well, as this great change was manifest, thinking I was involved in some sort of mind altering cult. It matters little now, why, but the results were many threatenings, hostilities, and eventually kicking me out and telling me not to come home. This trial was of the greatest benefit to me. It confirmed in my mind that I would never, no matter what it cost me, go back to what I was. Why would I? I was free, I was alive.
And no matter what the fears were that came with the threatenings and no matter what might happen as a result it was a small price seemingly to me because I now had the Pearl of great price! I lost it all to find everything!
“Were some of you”, that WAS me, but no more. I was washed clean of my sin. I was sanctified (set apart) to God now and His ways and His will. I was justified, not only forgiven the great offense of my sin against a holy God, but I was declared righteous in His sight! What I had heard as a child, that “Jesus died on the cross for my sin”, now, went beyond “hearing” and mental assent of facts, to a real understanding that was truly experienced. Jesus died, to not merely make it possible for me to go to heaven, or to only forgive sins that I had committed, but He died in my place to declare that God’s just and righteous penalty for sin was necessary (in that God the Father killed His own Son) and He conquered sin and death, and arose from the dead to put an end to the slavery to sin that had held me so long in it’s power.
This was almost 37 years ago as it is now May, 2018. As I grow in this understanding of who He is and who I am— as I sink my teeth into His truths, His promises— as I learn and lean fully on all His word says— in this I find all that there is worth living for and all that there is worth dying for, all I need for this pilgrim journey and more than I can comprehend in eternity to come. I have served my Savior, I have loved and obeyed Him— I have grieved, disappointed and failed Him also. And even in this failure I can once again return and cling to what I have come to know is true. He loves me with an everlasting love you see. Even my rebellion and disobedience at times and for seasons can not change the nature of His love and promises to me. As a dear man of God once said, “I have given God countless reasons not to love me. None of them has been strong enough to change Him.”
My testimony of faith in Jesus Christ |
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"If you abide in My word, then you are truly disciples of Mine, and you shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free."
John 8:31-32
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