How it all Started

I hope sometime to convince my mom to write a bit on this blog about her testimony, and that will do a lot to set the scene for my upbringing. But without going into all the details about how God was working in our family, let's just say it was miraculous in and of itself that I was raised in church.

Now, this may sound cliché, but I honestly don't remember a time when I didn't believe in Jesus. Two of my earliest memories are of conversations with my dad about Jesus. And I used to think this made my testimony super boring, but now I have the ability to look back and notice how important that was.

It all started one night, when my older, wise, more obedient, and angelic older sister did something wrong. I can't even recall what it was now, but I remember for sure that it was in fact her. But due to my being the notoriously naughty and prone-to-lying daughter, the wrongdoing was credited to me. I insisted that it was not me, and could not understand why I received the consequences for her actions.

It was then at the young age of 4, that I determined I had enough of the world's injustices, and I was going to leave home. I packed my little suitcase and decided I would runaway. My plan fell short when I couldn't unlock my window without my sister's help. And rather than aid me in my plan, she tattled. (figures)

Through many tears, it became clear to my dad that he had, in fact, punished the wrong girl for the earlier wrongdoing. And he took me into his room, sat with me and explained to me how Jesus had decided to take the punishment for my wrongdoings voluntarily because He loved me! I couldn't fathom loving someone that much! I mean, my sister was great, but I did NOT want to take her punishment. He walked me through the Gospel, and I prayed right then to accept His justification and ask Him to change my heart.

And I have never once doubted from that moment on that I was saved.

However, just 2 years later, I regretted it terribly.

Yes, you read that right. I regretted my salvation. See, my grandpa was my best friend in the whole world! He was the greatest! And when I was 6 years old, he suddenly died from a heart attack. I was broken. Devastated!

Now, it's hard to comfort a heart-broken 6-year-old. And someone attempted to with these words, "Your Grandpa was just such a wonderful person, that God wanted him to be in heaven with him instead of down here." That was it! I hated God! How could He?! What a cruel, selfish, and nasty thing to do to me! I was done with God, but I knew that I couldn't be. I was saved. I knew it. So I had a heart-to-heart with God. I told him we'd just call it even. He had my Grandpa, I had a free ticket to heaven, and that was going to be the extent of my relationship with him from there on out.

And it was for the next 6 years. Until God taught me about grace. While sitting in church as a 12-year-old with a hard heart, I listened to my Pastor preach through Mark. Sermon after sermon, I felt my heart desiring to know Jesus better and to have a real relationship with him. But I was still so angry. I don't even remember the specific sermon. (I wish I did.) But through God's Word and the Holy Spirit's work, God softened my heart to truly understand and appreciate the character of God, the reality of His love, and the Truth about His care for me. And I was able to finally let go of the bitterness and truly fall in love with My Savior again. It was wonderful! I know longer regretted giving my heart to Jesus, and for really the first time, I was able to enjoy the freedom and new life I had been given in Christ.

And I've been learning about Him and growing in my love for Him ever since! The rest of the story (which I will share over time) is not without its ups and downs, but this is the foundation God laid in my heart for the rest of the story.

I'd love to hear how you met Jesus! Share with me in the comments or send me a message!