Life Lessons--My testimony, written in 2002

I can clearly remember the turning point in my relationship with God. I was barely nineteen years old and a sophomore at Meredith College. The semester had been stressful enough by itself-- but the stress was fuelled by frequent bouts with depression. I felt alone and desperate for love.

I always believed that God and I were fine. I believed in Him; what else did I need? I attended every church function anyone could imagine until I was seven. But then my parents got divorced. Neither of them wanted to see the other or deal with the probing questions of family and friends, so neither of them returned to the church. As a seven year old, I didn't have much choice in the matter. Besides, I had been baptised, and I knew that God would forgive me if I asked, so what more was there? For the next ten years I lived life as a basically good person, never getting into much trouble and always too scared to try the partying scene. I was never in one place long enough to make friends because of a fierce custody battle between my parents. I went to six different schools in three years, and some of those I attended more than once. I was constantly dealing with shyness, rejection, and loneliness. When I turned ten, my parents finally stopped all of the goings back and forth, and I remained where I am today, living with my mom and stepdad.

When I was a senior in high school, my mom forced me to go to church with her once. She wanted to go but not alone. Of course I was the one elected to go with her, though certainly by no choice of my own. I argued with her for what seemed like hours, but she had the final say. So I went. When I got there, the atmosphere was completely different from what I imagined it would be. I had envisioned a stuffy church full of old people--and while that image wasn't too far off, I was amazed at the passion and zeal these people had for life--and for God! From the moment I stepped into the church, nearly everyone hugged me or shook my hand. I doubt that there was anyone there who did not welcome me to the church that day. I had never seen or felt such a display of affection. Affection certainly wasn't big in my family. All I asked my mom to give me for my high school graduation was a hug, so this unexpected affection and sincere care astonished me. So I continued to go to church each week with my mom, at first because I couldn't bear to disappoint her, later because I wanted to be there. I was beginning to feel God's tug at my heart.

I rededicated my life to God in March 2000 and got on fire for Christ. I helped to teach Vacation Bible School that summer, consistently held my own devotions, and couldn't get enough of going to church.

Then I went to college.

My first semester wasn't so bad. My student advisor was strong in her faith, and I used her as my rock whenever I could so I wouldn't slip in my faith, but because I had chosen a secular school, I was surrounded by people who chose to live a life different from mine. It reminds me of the parable of the prodigal son. He went out into the world, or the hog pen, and if you live in a hog pen, you're going to smell like a hog (Luke 15:15). There's no way around it. So gradually I slipped. I started skipping church services because I had too much homework or I didn't feel good. It was just easier not to go.

Then I met a guy. This guy was an Internet friend, and I fooled myself (who had never had a boyfriend) into believing that I was in love with him. Talking to him online began to consume me. I would skip church just so I wouldn't miss an opportunity to chat. I could hear God telling me not to get involved with him, because I knew that I should not be unequally yoked (2 Corinthians 6:14) and Jared did not believe in God. But I told God that I was going to disobey Him by continuing my relationship with Jared. Life went downhill from there.

After eight months of chatting online, Jared was finally able to come spend a week with me. We both had a wonderful time, and we truly believed we loved each other. We began talking about the possibility of getting engaged. Then the summer ended, he went back home, and I went back to school. He broke up with me two weeks later. I was devastated. It seemed that he felt I didn't really love him because I wanted to spend my first night back on campus talking with my friends rather than talking to him on the phone.

Then I experienced a week of horror. Within seven days my great grandmother died, my car died beyond repair, my computer died, and September 11th happened. I didn't know which way was up. So I started going out with my on campus friends. They got me to go out to a club, I would drink with them, and I would drive one of them around so she could drink. My life became exactly what I thought it never would. My depression completely consumed me. I snapped and cut my arm with a piece of broken glass. Looking back, I can see that I was crying for help, attention, and love. Did I receive any of that? No. My friends on campus turned their backs on me because of it. They stopped talking to me, and I became the victim of some cruel jokes. The gap between us grew until it was so wide that I was not welcome in my own room anymore. When I walked in, all conversation would stop, and one by one they would all find excuses to leave. In the meantime, I had found another guy. This one wasn't much different from the first, except that I had him in real life. He offered me the love and affection that I so desperately craved. He actually told me he loved me after eight days, and I foolishly believed him.

This was my turning point. I could either embrace the new life I had just stepped into, or I could turn and run right back into Gods outstretched arms. I called on my Lord and found that He was still there, ready to comfort me, ready to forgive. That night I discovered there on my knees how real a relationship with God should be. I opened myself up to Him and heard what He had to say to me. God wants to hold us and heal us, but we have to let Him. It isn't hard. Over the past year, I've learned how to maintain my personal relationship with Him--through prayer, daily devotions, going to church, and telling others what He has done for me.

Communication is the vital part of a relationship, and prayer is really nothing more than communication with God. I had to ask myself why I expected my relationship with God to remain close when I wouldn't talk to Him.

I also thought about how I would feel if I had written a love letter and given it to the person I love most, only to have him ignore it or open it only when he was told to. The Bible is God's love letter to me, and He expects me to read it.

Going to church has been an integral part in maintaining my relationship with God. This is a tricky issue because many feel that church isn't necessary to worship God--He is just as easily worshipped from a comfy recliner as from a church pew. And that is correct. While going to church won't get me into heaven, it helps me grow as a Christian. I need fellowship with other Christians.

So finally, I feel as if I have grown in the Lord, and I need to share the joy of the Lord with everyone. I'm very shy, but I don't let that stop me from letting people know where I stand with God. I'm not ashamed to proclaim that I believe in Jesus Christ. I'm not even ashamed to tell of the mistakes that got me to where I am today. A Christians life isn't perfect. But I am now confident enough in my relationship with the Lord to handle anything in life.