Hi,
I would like to share my testimony with you.
I did not grow up a Christian. My parents are great people and we had a lot of fun together, but they were not religious at all. If we went to church it was only on holidays, or because someone had invited us, and my parents would tell me not to buy into it because religion just made people unhappy. Later, the opposite would be true, but until I was about 10 or 11 that was the message we got at home. I was never forbidden from learning about God. In fact, we attended all different sorts of temples, mosques, churches, etc and had friends and relatives of all different religions. We celebrated Ramadan and went to feast days and church potlucks. It was very pluralist, I guess is the word.
Around the time I was 6, my parents started fighting a lot. My dad was sort of a hippie relic. He didn't abuse drugs, but he was unreliable, always out pursuing some art project or hanging out at the theatre until 3 in the morning. He wanted to take my sisters and I to different marches and festivals, and we spent a lot of time at concerts which I don't remember very well. They were all smoky. My dad and his friends would get to playing guitar and having rap sessions and forget to feed us lunch or pick us up from school. My mother was artistic and creative too, but she was also very careful about her duties as a parent, and since my dad wasn't very trustworthy, she often got upset. Sometimes my dad would pick my sisters and me up from school and load up the truck, and take us camping without telling her at all. She was scared a lot. To deal with her anger she started drinking and taking off on her own for impromptu trips. It was crazy.
They divorced when I was 8. I lived with my mother. My father wanted us but the court said no. My mother was the one with the reliable job and my dad had his head in the clouds. Anyway, our lives changed a lot. We didn't skip school to go to the beach anymore, or get to stay up until 2 in the morning listening to friends of my parents play music. My sisters and I started fighting my mom a lot. Her drinking and such got worse, and she never got physically abusive but she started yelling a lot and neglecting us. Then she met someone. It was Philip, and he'd later become my step-dad. He was a Christian and talked to her about his faith sometimes. Naturally, she wanted to know more about Christ because everything had been so unstable and this man was telling her about someone who wouldn't abandon her or leave her to fret but would be there and love her no matter what.
My mother started going to church and taking my sisters and I to Sunday School. I'll admit it that I hated it. I thought it was incredibly boring and restrictive. I didn't understand why we couldn't do more fun things, like go to hindu temples and light incense, or just stay home. Despite my feelings, my mother started to learn more and found peace. She accepted Christ and joined a Bible study. I won't lie and say she became a different person overnight, but the drinking became less frequent and she seemed a lot cheerier. She felt like she had been made for a reason and that God loved her even on the days it seemed nothing went right.
When my mother married Philip, I felt really confused because I thought I wasn't supposed to love my dad anymore. I was happy for my mother but unsure about my future. Then I started talking to the woman who ran the Sunday school, Pat. We just talked about everything. Even when we moved away, I kept in touch with her. She would send me Bible verses and books to read, and let me rant about basically everything. Through her, I came to understand Christ better, enough to honestly say I had faith in him and trusted the Bible's words. When I accepted Christ my mother was really happy, but my father was angry. He thought Philip was brainwashing all of us and didn't understand. He still doesn't, I'm sad to say. But my life really improved and so did my mindset. My self esteem had been really terrible because of the divorce and some other stuff, and when I realised that God loved me NO MATTER WHAT it was overwhelming. I knew I was a special child of God and had a purpose.
I guess my testimony doesn't have an ending, because I am still pretty much a new Christian and still learning, but the difference God has made in my life is something I can't keep quiet about. I won't pretend it hasn't been rough trying to deal with my father or that it isn't hard sometimes to keep believing, but I can't deny the difference God has made in my life. So if you are thinking about turning to God, do it. You don't need to be perfect, just go ahead and take the step.
I would like to share my testimony with you.
I did not grow up a Christian. My parents are great people and we had a lot of fun together, but they were not religious at all. If we went to church it was only on holidays, or because someone had invited us, and my parents would tell me not to buy into it because religion just made people unhappy. Later, the opposite would be true, but until I was about 10 or 11 that was the message we got at home. I was never forbidden from learning about God. In fact, we attended all different sorts of temples, mosques, churches, etc and had friends and relatives of all different religions. We celebrated Ramadan and went to feast days and church potlucks. It was very pluralist, I guess is the word.
Around the time I was 6, my parents started fighting a lot. My dad was sort of a hippie relic. He didn't abuse drugs, but he was unreliable, always out pursuing some art project or hanging out at the theatre until 3 in the morning. He wanted to take my sisters and I to different marches and festivals, and we spent a lot of time at concerts which I don't remember very well. They were all smoky. My dad and his friends would get to playing guitar and having rap sessions and forget to feed us lunch or pick us up from school. My mother was artistic and creative too, but she was also very careful about her duties as a parent, and since my dad wasn't very trustworthy, she often got upset. Sometimes my dad would pick my sisters and me up from school and load up the truck, and take us camping without telling her at all. She was scared a lot. To deal with her anger she started drinking and taking off on her own for impromptu trips. It was crazy.
They divorced when I was 8. I lived with my mother. My father wanted us but the court said no. My mother was the one with the reliable job and my dad had his head in the clouds. Anyway, our lives changed a lot. We didn't skip school to go to the beach anymore, or get to stay up until 2 in the morning listening to friends of my parents play music. My sisters and I started fighting my mom a lot. Her drinking and such got worse, and she never got physically abusive but she started yelling a lot and neglecting us. Then she met someone. It was Philip, and he'd later become my step-dad. He was a Christian and talked to her about his faith sometimes. Naturally, she wanted to know more about Christ because everything had been so unstable and this man was telling her about someone who wouldn't abandon her or leave her to fret but would be there and love her no matter what.
My mother started going to church and taking my sisters and I to Sunday School. I'll admit it that I hated it. I thought it was incredibly boring and restrictive. I didn't understand why we couldn't do more fun things, like go to hindu temples and light incense, or just stay home. Despite my feelings, my mother started to learn more and found peace. She accepted Christ and joined a Bible study. I won't lie and say she became a different person overnight, but the drinking became less frequent and she seemed a lot cheerier. She felt like she had been made for a reason and that God loved her even on the days it seemed nothing went right.
When my mother married Philip, I felt really confused because I thought I wasn't supposed to love my dad anymore. I was happy for my mother but unsure about my future. Then I started talking to the woman who ran the Sunday school, Pat. We just talked about everything. Even when we moved away, I kept in touch with her. She would send me Bible verses and books to read, and let me rant about basically everything. Through her, I came to understand Christ better, enough to honestly say I had faith in him and trusted the Bible's words. When I accepted Christ my mother was really happy, but my father was angry. He thought Philip was brainwashing all of us and didn't understand. He still doesn't, I'm sad to say. But my life really improved and so did my mindset. My self esteem had been really terrible because of the divorce and some other stuff, and when I realised that God loved me NO MATTER WHAT it was overwhelming. I knew I was a special child of God and had a purpose.
I guess my testimony doesn't have an ending, because I am still pretty much a new Christian and still learning, but the difference God has made in my life is something I can't keep quiet about. I won't pretend it hasn't been rough trying to deal with my father or that it isn't hard sometimes to keep believing, but I can't deny the difference God has made in my life. So if you are thinking about turning to God, do it. You don't need to be perfect, just go ahead and take the step.
