Sunday, March 27, 2016

Testimony - Mostly Unedited



I was asked to share my testimony today in church.  I’ve spoken in front of people many times before, but never in a church setting with my own testimony.  What do I say? What do I edit out?  What am I allowed to say? How do I fit it all in 5 minutes? Will they all still like me if I share the real me?  Those were all questions that I pondered a few weeks before the Easter service that I was asked to share at.

I don’t have one strong overwhelming “come to Jesus” story, but rather a continual “come to Jesus” story.

I was born on a winter January night by C-section.  I’m told the Dr. nicked me on my backside with a knife which led me to cry for the first two years of my life.  I think my parents over-dramatized that part. 

I had a very stable and loving childhood, the fourth child of five if there is any psychology behind that.  I was raised in a pastor’s family and was home schooled.  Not only was I home schooled, but I was a smart bookworm and I was in a home school band.  I also had an eye patch for when I played games and read.  And I did the glamour popular sports…..like…Shot Put.  While I had plenty of opportunities to socialize with others and had lots of opportunities from being home schooled, I think it is safe to say that life was different than the average child. 

Looking back now I can see how foundation this time was in my life.  We were at church constantly, with mid-week Bible studies, children’s nights, youth nights, etc., etc., etc.  I learned a lot about God and since it was a small church I was part of many different activities in church (any event that occurred, child care, Sunday school, assisted in AWANA).  If it involved church, then I was the good stereotypical pastors’ daughter and was involved.   

Fast-forward a few years and most of my family ended up moving from Oregon to Washington.  My older siblings would be home off and on during the summer.  I was a smarty pants and ended up going to the local community college as a Junior in high school.  I didn’t really have any career goals at this point in life other than to get married and have a family someday.  I figured I would get my legal secretarial degree and work in an office until I got married.

Sometimes I look back and just laugh at the things I was so sure of and think how much fun God must have had changing things up on me and messing with MY plans.

I prayed for Christian friends because my new church and circle of people really didn’t have anyone my age in it.  I did meet a boy in college. Two boys actually.  I introduced them to each other and they formed a punk rock band which became its own adventure.  I gained some lifelong friends from this group.  I miss the days of loud music, late nights, eating bottomless fries at Red Robin because we couldn’t afford a whole meal, and also AOL Instant Messenger.

I ended up dating one of the boys for over a year.  We had theology differences and I realized just how stubborn I was in my beliefs and being raised Baptist, which lead to arguments, and me….quite frankly being an immature 19 year old and thinking I knew everything.  You learn a lot about yourself in a relationship.  When we broke up, my world crashed.  It probably didn’t help that he told me that he could never marry me, unintentionally leaving me feeling unlovable, inadequate and unable to breathe for quite some time and avoiding my close friends, who were also friends with him.
It was around this time that I started questioning God.  Not questioning his existence, but rather his love and who He was.  Isn’t life with God supposed to be perfect and peaceful?

At this time I began hanging out with a new group of friends that I worked with.  They were so accepting of me and my quirkiness and I was looking for acceptance from anyone and everyone.  I would tailor who I was depending on who I hung out with.  They often held weekend bonfires out in the country.  They liked to drink, a lot, but I wasn’t 21 yet and decided it would be wise to just hang out with them and be a good influence on them.  They also smoked marijuana, but that didn’t bother me, because I felt accepted with them.  After I turned 21 the opposite occurred and rather than being a good influence on them they influenced me.

I began living what can only be described as a double life.  During this time I still knew God, but it was not a healthy relationship.  I went through a time of committing what could only be described as “every sin in the book.”  I didn’t think I was turning away from God, because I still believed in Him, and I knew He would forgive me.   I still went to church and I still was involved in different ministries on weekends, yet rather than making God the center of my life and building a relationship with him, I continued to place my value on what other people thought of me.  Most of the time serving in the church during this time was because I thought it was the right thing to do, and what was expected, and again, made me feel valuable in the site of church people.  

I remember being so confused as a 21 year old.  I had a solid and committed group of Christian friends, and a solid committed group of Non-Christian friends.   

While I like to block out and not remember this time in my life, doing so would only edit out the grace that I feel from God and what He has done in my life. 

Once night driving some back country roads I remember looking at the stars and moon and mentally crying out to God and letting Him know that I didn’t know how to change.  I couldn’t change on my own, but I was so tired of trying to be liked by everyone and I didn’t know how to stop my spinning world. 

Within the next two minutes I was in a head on collision and hit by a drunk driver going 50 miles per an hour.  Ironically, there was a car 20 feet away that witnessed the accident and had a nurse in the front seat able to help while ambulances arrived.  I still remember my mom’s poor voice on the phone while I tried to tell her I was in an accident but not able to communicate anything further than that.  My car was completely totaled; I was severely injured with bruises and still have a few scars, but by the grace of God I was able to limp away from that accident without permanent repercussions.

They always say be careful what you pray for.  Being hit by a drunk driver was a definite wakeup call for me.  Quite frankly, it could have easily been me driving that car on an evening if I had misjudged how much alcohol had been consumed and my driving ability.

I moved to New York a year-ish or two later with a group of close friends.  You know the band ones with long hair and tattoos.  We actually went out there to not only explore the music scene but also to help out at a small church in the area.  The pastor of the church was one of my friend’s Deans at a high school boarding school known as “Hillcrest” in a small town in Fergus Falls, Minnesota.
The church we helped out in was a Lutheran Brethren church.  It was very different from my Baptist upbringing, but very similar in many ways.  I found myself wrestling with different theologies but loving the people, connections, and services. I slowly came to love the Lutheran Brethren theology after years of study and conversations and meeting a network of people who were truly connected as brothers and sisters in Christ.

Looking back now, I know this was a time of healing in my life.  I was only in NY for two years, but the faith and bonds that were formed there with my friends will last a lifetime.  I began to know what it was like to be accepted and loved for just being me, while not having to try and impress anyone.

Again, I wish I could say this was the end of the story and life went on happily ever after.

The reality is that God and I continued to wrestle.  I saw my friends over the years slowly getting married, and having children, and building families.  You see, God seemed to forget about me again.   I fell into cycle after cycle of liking a guy, maybe with a little Facebook stalking mixed in here and there, and then ultimately seeing them pick someone else to date and get married and start a family.  I would be heartbroken every time, without even having dated the guy.  I was falling into the same pattern of placing my value on other people.  They weren’t bad guys, they were great guys, that’s why I like them.  I’m sure every time I liked a boy, my close friends would panic, because it would mean they would hear about said boy for the next 6 months.  I would seek my identity in these guys, and alter who I was to be who I thought they wanted. 

After one boy in particular did not like me back I had enough.  I ended up yelling at God, as much as you can yell at God in your mind.  I told him that He didn’t know anything, He didn’t know what He was doing with my life and it wasn’t fair.  It wasn’t fair that I wasn’t loved.  I ended up emphatically telling God that He didn’t know what it was like not to be loved, and to be rejected…..

If I have ever outright heard God speak, then it was in this moment.  As soon as I’d thought I’d won my mental argument with God, He reminded me exactly who I was arguing with.  All the stories and head knowledge I had came back full force.  Within an instant God reminded me of how He created the world, perfect, with Adam and Eve and how He loved them and they chose something else.  I was reminded of Israel, and how they rejected God over and over and over, yet still He loved them and took them back every time.  I remembered how He sent Jesus, His only Son, to be our Savior, and how we killed him.  The religious leaders at the time even participated in his death.  I thought of the Church in general today, and how we do the same thing with sometimes compartmentalizing God into only Sunday’s.  And then God reminded me of myself.  Of how I have known Him my entire life, yet still was looking elsewhere for validation and seeking my identity in accomplishments and what others thought.  I myself was not truly loving God.

I dove into learning more about God and was so encouraged by what I read in the Bible.  The flannel graph stories I knew as a child were different, and more alive.  The people in them were broken, and not perfect, but sought God even in their imperfections.
God gave me a passion for serving Him because I love Him and not just because it is something to do.  I have been able to share heartaches and joys with other young adult women and teenagers who also struggle with identity and where they are in life, and where God is.

I used to wonder why God wasn’t doing anything with my life.  Now I can’t help but stop and look back and wonder how I had missed Him being there the whole time, and everything that he was doing.

I could go on and on about what God has done for me.  He has blessed me with an amazing job, with loving friends and family, with not only one church family but a network of church families.  There are a few verses I have clung onto over the years.   

Psalm 73:25-26
25 Whom have I in heaven but you?
    And earth has nothing I desire besides you.
26 My flesh and my heart may fail,
    but God is the strength of my heart
    and my portion forever.

And also:

1 Thessalonians 1:3
"We remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ."

I’m not perfect, and never will be, but I have peace because of God and try to serve him in my faith, prompted by love with an endurance that has been inspired by hope. 

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