Wednesday, February 20, 2013

My testimony


My story begins when I was 4 years old. My oldest brother Edward and I had spent the night at our grandparents house. We both woke up early the next morning and didn't think we should get up yet so we stayed in bed and starting talking. My brother has never really liked small talk so he jumped right to the deepest subject, Jesus and the salvation He offers. I don't remember everything he said but I do remember him asking me if I wanted to pray to ask Jesus into my heart. I said yes and we prayed. As I prayed I physically felt a void being filled inside of me. Jesus really came to live in me! And there was great rejoicing! Right? Well no, at least not inside of me.  

I thought it was too soon, even at 4 years old, but I knew my decision was my own and that I wanted Jesus in my heart. I felt sealed and preserved. I would never know life without Him. But part of me was sad. I desperately wanted a before and after story. An I once was lost and now I'm found shout-it-from-the-rooftops-and-everyone-in-your-household-gets-saved story. Instead, I got a once was lost and then I turned 4 years old story. I complained to Him about it because I felt like I had no testimony. I questioned His wisdom and His plans for my life. And from the very first day that I was saved, I doubted God's love for me. 

So began 13 years of questioning and doubting God. 

I grew up in the Dinuba Mennonite Brethren Church and had this reputation for being obedient, nice, and a good sister to my brother Nathan, who has a developmental disability. You can ask me more about that later. But this goody two shoes reputation felt like a huge lie. I was obedient because it was easier and I was too lazy to be disobedient. I was nice to people because I was allergic to conflict so I'd rather be nice than risk having to run away from you when conflict arose. And I was a good sister because I was the youngest and figured, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em! Right?

In questioning and doubting God's love for me I had this was my (faulty) logic: God knows me better than I know myself so that means He sees my ugly, sinful heart and therefore He couldn't possibly love me. I was unworthy and there was no chance that I'd ever become worthy because I was committing the worst sin of all, trying to overrule God as though I had it right and He had it wrong. Such stubborn arrogance mixed with a very low self-esteem made for a depressing inner dialogue.

I thought I was being gracious in saying to God that I didn't want to be a burden. I didn't want to bother God with my problems. He, like my parents, was busy taking care of other people. I had the Lord but I didn't want to need Him. My mindset was "God, you've got me. You've had me since age 4. You don't have to worry about me anymore. Feel free to focus on all the other people who don't know You yet. The key difference between God and my parents is that God doesn't need anything taken off His plate. He doesn't need a break or for me to be on His team to give Him support. God doesn't need me. 

In August of 1998, I went to camp and He met me there. It was Wednesday night and I was sitting in the amphitheater at Hartland Christian Camp listening to a speaker talk about God's love. At the end as about 80% of my peers left their seats to go make new commitments to the Lord, I was still sitting in mine. I didn’t think anything would penetrate the thick concrete wall I’d built around my heart. 

But then came a life changing moment:

My head was bowed and my eyes closed when I heard God say “I love you.” 
I said, “No.” (but the wall cracked)
He said again, “I love you.” 
I said, “Maybe.” (a chunk falls off the wall) 
For a third time He said, “I love you.” 
And I said, “I finally believe You.” 

I WEPT as my wall crumbled and God’s love flooded my heart. I accepted salvation at age 4 and accepted God's choice to love me at age 17.

When I was 24 I wrote my own version of what Paul wrote in Galatians 1:13-16:

‘For you have heard of my previous days at DMBC, my family heritage, how I worshiped, served God, and tried to be a good Christian. I was advanced in my knowledge of the Bible and was involved in ministry with the youth group, choir, worship team, etc. I was zealous but at the same time conflicted about Your love. But then God, You chose to reveal Your grace to me and were pleased to give Your Son’s life for mine so that I might know what it is to be truly loved, valued, and cared for. Thank You.’

Now at age 36 God is helping me appreciate my heritage and my 32 years with Him. Last year I was doing a bible study with a friend and was referencing different stories in the Bible to explain something and my friend turned to me and said, "How do you know all of this stuff?!?" It caught me off guard because I really couldn't pinpoint when or where I'd learned it because I didn't remember not knowing it. "I guess I learned it at church or from my parents at some point",  I said. Then she said something that changed my perspective on growing up as a follower of Jesus and on growing up in the church. She said, "Well, I think you should go home and thank your parents for teaching you all of this because I've never heard it before! You're so blessed to have a Christian family!" And I think, for the first time in a long time, I agreed with her.