A few years ago my wife and I went through a "share your faith" class at our church. I knew that I was supposed to be a witness everywhere I was but when it came down to it, I really had put no thought in how to do that.
In our class we learned many things, many scriptures, and many questions to ask to start a conversation going in the "spiritual direction", but probably the thing that stood out to me the most was the quote, "the most important tool a Christian has is his testimony."
We were challenged to write down our testimony, condense it into a short version, orally present it to the class and be ready to share it with anyone at any time.
Testimonies differ from place to place and from person to person. Also, your testimony will change as you grow in your Christian life.
Always, though, God will put you in contact with someone who needs to hear it..."it" being what God has done in your life.
The following is my written testimony from a time in my life when I was an eager, but very unknowing and unexperienced Christian. I guess you could consider it a "stepping stone" along the path I'm traveling.
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I was raised in a local Southern Baptist church.
Growing up, it was simply understood that on Sunday mornings, Sunday nights and Wednesday nights I was to be there. I rarely questioned that because it was as normal as going to school or anywhere else I might regularly attend.
I'm thankful that I was brought up by good Christian parents who taught me right from wrong, taught me to respect others and more importantly, taught me by example. I am an only child and mom and dad tried to give me the things I needed and more often than not, the things I wanted, although I can honestly say that I was never the proverbial 'spoiled brat'.
Things were always pretty easy growing up and it would be an understatement to say that I was greatly blessed in many ways, and to most people I was always considered to be the 'good little preachers kid'.
However, at about eleven years old I began to see what was reality. Things with my life didn't seem quite right and I became uncomfortable during the invitation at the end of every church service. I tried to sneak out to the bathroom or carry on a meaningless conversation with a friend while my dad spoke about how we all need to repent and come to Jesus and the piano player played 'Just As I Am' in the background. I actually became quite good at pretending not to be bothered by what was being said and what my conscience was telling me I needed to do. After all, if I colud make it through just a few minutes of feeling miserably guilty and trying not to make eye contact with dad, I would be able to walk right out the front door into my care-free life...at least until the next Sunday.
This actually went on until just after I turned sixteen years old. On that particular Sunday morning, it seemed as though everybody at Pleasant Grove Baptist Church was staring at me. I remember holding onto the back of the pew in front of me and pretending to be totally focused on the words in the song book. I dared to look at my dad one time. I think he was waiting for that moment, because it was then that he held out his hand and began walking toward me. As he stopped next to me and said, "Tim, you know I love you and God loves you", he put his arm around me and I walked with him to the alter where I was saved.
It was then that I first realized the common misconception that one can get to Heaven on a family name or by being a 'good guy'. Many people told me they assumed that I was already saved because I was always in church and my dad was the pastor.
As years went by, I was married and had a daughter. After a rocky start to my marriage due to the shaky family situation between my in-laws and myself, we began allowing selfish ambitions to enter into our lives at home. Because of being too stubborn to admit our own mistakes and too condemning to forgive those of others, we both lost focus on what is really important. We began simply going through the motions at church, which was, of course, the last place we really wanted to be. Finally after one too many hot-tempered arguments, I came home from work to an empty house.
I was mad. Then I was broken. Then confused. Then I was sorry. I said I'd do anything, knowing that was probably a lie. I was tired of living and decided I just wanted out of everything...including life, all the time knowing, but ignoring the fact that I was in no condition to step into eternity in my current state. To put it lightly, I didn't take things very well and I'm ashamed to admit some of the things that I did for the next year afterwards. Living a Christian life was the farthest thing from my mind to say the least. I felt as though I had been wronged by God. I quit attending church, but not before leaving a negative mark there, too. I looked for satisfaction in other people and other things and told myself several times that I'd found it. I turned away from everything I had been taught all my life and lived for myself and no one else.
The Bible says "teach a child the way he should go and when he is old he shall not depart". After about a year of living an empty life of self-pity that had turned into anger and resentment and walking out of a car accident that probably should have killed me, I finally gave myself back over to what I knew to be true. During all of the problems, one thing was proven. As far away from God as I ran, He never moved. He was waiting right where I left Him, calling me to come back.
After all the guilty feelings of the things I'd done and after questioning myself of what I really was, I finally realized that I first had to forgive myself in order to go on and live the life God had planned for me. I once read that 'God allows for our mistakes when he plans our lives'. I took several wrong turns along the way, but if you think about it, when you take a detour, you still end up on
the main course that you set out on in the beginning.
I began focusing on my daughter, even though she wasn't with me as much as I liked. I began praying that I'd be the father that God wanted me to be and that he'd give me another chance to some day be the Christian husband that I didn't try to be before.
To make this long story a little shorter, my prayers were answered when I met Joy and we were married and soon blessed with our son. We made a commitment to each other to find a good church where we can involve ourselves and continually grow.
Our life together is far from perfect, but I realize that when we try to stay focused on God's will things seem to fall into place. Just like Romans 8:28 tells us, no matter what we go through or how far we fall, if we love and trust in God, things will ultimately work out for good.
Besides, maybe someday I'll be able to tell someone, "hey, I've been there and done that and God has still blessed me, despite what I've done".
In our class we learned many things, many scriptures, and many questions to ask to start a conversation going in the "spiritual direction", but probably the thing that stood out to me the most was the quote, "the most important tool a Christian has is his testimony."
We were challenged to write down our testimony, condense it into a short version, orally present it to the class and be ready to share it with anyone at any time.
Testimonies differ from place to place and from person to person. Also, your testimony will change as you grow in your Christian life.
Always, though, God will put you in contact with someone who needs to hear it..."it" being what God has done in your life.
The following is my written testimony from a time in my life when I was an eager, but very unknowing and unexperienced Christian. I guess you could consider it a "stepping stone" along the path I'm traveling.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was raised in a local Southern Baptist church.
Growing up, it was simply understood that on Sunday mornings, Sunday nights and Wednesday nights I was to be there. I rarely questioned that because it was as normal as going to school or anywhere else I might regularly attend.
I'm thankful that I was brought up by good Christian parents who taught me right from wrong, taught me to respect others and more importantly, taught me by example. I am an only child and mom and dad tried to give me the things I needed and more often than not, the things I wanted, although I can honestly say that I was never the proverbial 'spoiled brat'.
Things were always pretty easy growing up and it would be an understatement to say that I was greatly blessed in many ways, and to most people I was always considered to be the 'good little preachers kid'.
However, at about eleven years old I began to see what was reality. Things with my life didn't seem quite right and I became uncomfortable during the invitation at the end of every church service. I tried to sneak out to the bathroom or carry on a meaningless conversation with a friend while my dad spoke about how we all need to repent and come to Jesus and the piano player played 'Just As I Am' in the background. I actually became quite good at pretending not to be bothered by what was being said and what my conscience was telling me I needed to do. After all, if I colud make it through just a few minutes of feeling miserably guilty and trying not to make eye contact with dad, I would be able to walk right out the front door into my care-free life...at least until the next Sunday.
This actually went on until just after I turned sixteen years old. On that particular Sunday morning, it seemed as though everybody at Pleasant Grove Baptist Church was staring at me. I remember holding onto the back of the pew in front of me and pretending to be totally focused on the words in the song book. I dared to look at my dad one time. I think he was waiting for that moment, because it was then that he held out his hand and began walking toward me. As he stopped next to me and said, "Tim, you know I love you and God loves you", he put his arm around me and I walked with him to the alter where I was saved.
It was then that I first realized the common misconception that one can get to Heaven on a family name or by being a 'good guy'. Many people told me they assumed that I was already saved because I was always in church and my dad was the pastor.
As years went by, I was married and had a daughter. After a rocky start to my marriage due to the shaky family situation between my in-laws and myself, we began allowing selfish ambitions to enter into our lives at home. Because of being too stubborn to admit our own mistakes and too condemning to forgive those of others, we both lost focus on what is really important. We began simply going through the motions at church, which was, of course, the last place we really wanted to be. Finally after one too many hot-tempered arguments, I came home from work to an empty house.
I was mad. Then I was broken. Then confused. Then I was sorry. I said I'd do anything, knowing that was probably a lie. I was tired of living and decided I just wanted out of everything...including life, all the time knowing, but ignoring the fact that I was in no condition to step into eternity in my current state. To put it lightly, I didn't take things very well and I'm ashamed to admit some of the things that I did for the next year afterwards. Living a Christian life was the farthest thing from my mind to say the least. I felt as though I had been wronged by God. I quit attending church, but not before leaving a negative mark there, too. I looked for satisfaction in other people and other things and told myself several times that I'd found it. I turned away from everything I had been taught all my life and lived for myself and no one else.
The Bible says "teach a child the way he should go and when he is old he shall not depart". After about a year of living an empty life of self-pity that had turned into anger and resentment and walking out of a car accident that probably should have killed me, I finally gave myself back over to what I knew to be true. During all of the problems, one thing was proven. As far away from God as I ran, He never moved. He was waiting right where I left Him, calling me to come back.
After all the guilty feelings of the things I'd done and after questioning myself of what I really was, I finally realized that I first had to forgive myself in order to go on and live the life God had planned for me. I once read that 'God allows for our mistakes when he plans our lives'. I took several wrong turns along the way, but if you think about it, when you take a detour, you still end up on
the main course that you set out on in the beginning.
I began focusing on my daughter, even though she wasn't with me as much as I liked. I began praying that I'd be the father that God wanted me to be and that he'd give me another chance to some day be the Christian husband that I didn't try to be before.
To make this long story a little shorter, my prayers were answered when I met Joy and we were married and soon blessed with our son. We made a commitment to each other to find a good church where we can involve ourselves and continually grow.
Our life together is far from perfect, but I realize that when we try to stay focused on God's will things seem to fall into place. Just like Romans 8:28 tells us, no matter what we go through or how far we fall, if we love and trust in God, things will ultimately work out for good.
Besides, maybe someday I'll be able to tell someone, "hey, I've been there and done that and God has still blessed me, despite what I've done".
