I have spent so much of my life running around looking for Jesus that I never understood He resided in my heart.
I was bought up in a disfunctional family, parents divorcing and boy did that get ugly. I was sexually abused at a young age and emotionally abused by my mother who was a bitter, angry woman.
At age 12 I was taken in by a minister and his wife after being expelled from bording school for absconding on the weekend. This was the single most important part of my coming to Christ. These people with their two children had a warm, loving, caring home where they shared prayer and bible time each night. I began to look toward Jesus....ever slowly. Near the end of my time with these people I gave my life to Jesus.
This helped me greatly, but back home with mum and more mental cruelty had me hitting the road at forteen. I ran away, got picked up by the police, ran away again and again and was made a ward of the state. I finally came back home at fifteen and stayed cause I saw how sad my mum was when I left. I really started thinking about others then.
I stayed away from church for along time after that but continued to believe Christ gave his life for me. I just couldn't reconsile the idea of a fearsome God in heaven judging me. The thought made me quake as I knew I didn't measure up.
A couple of years ago I was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder and then all the pennies dropped at once. This is why I was so erratic in my behavior and thoughts. With medication I started back at church and recommitted my life to the Lord. I now ask Him each day what is on the agenda instead of following my own lead.
I work for a christian organisation a couple of days a week and take time out for myself now. All be the glory to God that while I was out there runnin, ever runnin, He was holding me safe in His hand just waiting for me to look inwards and find Him.
He no longer represents to me a scary God, rather a God that like the father of the prodigal son is just waiting to welcome us all Home. God is love.
I was bought up in a disfunctional family, parents divorcing and boy did that get ugly. I was sexually abused at a young age and emotionally abused by my mother who was a bitter, angry woman.
At age 12 I was taken in by a minister and his wife after being expelled from bording school for absconding on the weekend. This was the single most important part of my coming to Christ. These people with their two children had a warm, loving, caring home where they shared prayer and bible time each night. I began to look toward Jesus....ever slowly. Near the end of my time with these people I gave my life to Jesus.
This helped me greatly, but back home with mum and more mental cruelty had me hitting the road at forteen. I ran away, got picked up by the police, ran away again and again and was made a ward of the state. I finally came back home at fifteen and stayed cause I saw how sad my mum was when I left. I really started thinking about others then.
I stayed away from church for along time after that but continued to believe Christ gave his life for me. I just couldn't reconsile the idea of a fearsome God in heaven judging me. The thought made me quake as I knew I didn't measure up.
A couple of years ago I was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder and then all the pennies dropped at once. This is why I was so erratic in my behavior and thoughts. With medication I started back at church and recommitted my life to the Lord. I now ask Him each day what is on the agenda instead of following my own lead.
I work for a christian organisation a couple of days a week and take time out for myself now. All be the glory to God that while I was out there runnin, ever runnin, He was holding me safe in His hand just waiting for me to look inwards and find Him.
He no longer represents to me a scary God, rather a God that like the father of the prodigal son is just waiting to welcome us all Home. God is love.
