Testimony

This is my testimony,

Despite having been lovingly raised by an agnostic mother and an atheist father, the choice of what to believe in was always left up to me. As a result of such liberty, I remember growing up understanding that there was a God who loves me. Though I believed in God, I never went to church. While I was in the fourth grade, however, a classmate invited me to visit a local church. Unfortunately, for some reason or another, I never made it. Later that same year the same classmate would tell me I was going to hell. Not only did this spark a fight between our mothers, but it also began what was to be much tension between myself and Christianity in general.

From that point on I contented myself with an apathetic attitude and lukewarm understanding regarding any sort if “higher being.” Any sort of passion I had I reserved for pursuing “true love.” School was un-important; relationships and social-status was the only really important thing. However, something happened my sophomore year in high school which proved to be a reality check: the death of my great grandma. All my friends from cheerleading seemed to have abandoned me right when I needed them most. I soon began leading a double life between school and home; between superficial appearances and lies and fights. I also began searching for some sort of belief system to speak coherence into my desperate situation. It wasn’t long before I submerged myself into the shifting sands of Wicca. According to Wicca, there really is no set doctrine. Once again, I was free to make my own morals and beliefs. But even Wicca couldn’t shake my apathy towards life, which, due to a debate with someone who is now a good friend, I begrudgingly realized. Things just didn’t make sense. I asked myself, “Where are the morals? How could everyone be right? Where is the justice to the rapist if it right for them?” to which Wicca provided no answers. Christianity, on the other hand, appeared to be able to answer these kinds of questions head-on. Finally, one day I remember driving with two of my friends admitting starting to think there is something to the Christian faith.

Everything seemed to be heading in the right direction, but there was only one problem: no one wanted to take me to church! Here I was, desiring to seek God without a truly passionate Christian in sight! Thankfully, I eventually found a friend to take me to church, which happened to be the very same church I was invited to in the fourth grade! Though my first visit was nerve racking, I came back a second time, asking God to meet me if He was there. During worship I felt in my heart God crying out with joy that His child had come home. Like the prodigal son, I felt his presence overwhelm me. A few months later I gave my life to Christ and was baptized in March of 2006. Since then I have regained a passion for life, having my heart filled with a longing for Him. Of course I’ve encountered struggles along the way, but I gladly consider them worth being called His child. I look forward to being able to serve Him, and bring glory to His name in my new life.