Things I've dealt with. (My testimony)

Recently, I've had a conversation with a very good friend of mine who is dealing with some really serious things. I'd like to publish my thoughts on this right here, in this blog. Thank you all who read this.

For my youth group's mission trip, each person on the team (fifteen total--12 students, three adults) needed to write out their testimony of God's faithfulness in life. If not written out entirely, at least outlined. If not outlined, we should have had at least a slightly remote idea of what we might say. And if not that, we'd pray that the Holy Spirit would lead our words. The latter we would do anyway, but it was written that we should have had at LEAST SOMETHING to share. I had written something--a page-long ESSAY, essentially, on my entire life, including info about my parents before I was even conceived. While it was a great testimony and story, it just wasn't enough, at least in my opinion. It was rambly. And everybody else simply had outlines, it seemed.

And while everybody but me and one other girl took the opportunity to share their testimony in front of the small congregations that we visited almost DAILY, I did get the chance to share. With an even smaller congregation. A very small group of children, that we were working with for a church's Kid's Club on Monday's, Wednesday's, and Friday's. I shared about how I didn't always understand God, but He was always faithful to my family. He always provided for my family. And how He was still there and strengthening my friends who were Christian, but who did not come from Christian families. Now I have no idea if my story had an impact on those kids, but I pray that they made that decision to follow Christ, or that they do, at some point.

But the important thing was that I shared. I told someone my story, one of my small stories, about how God was faithful to my family, my friends, and myself. The story I told was short and not detailed, as we were in a circle with four other student leaders plus a student translator, and probably not over six little girls, and one's toddler brother, and we were all supposed to share.

I realized, maybe not exactly THERE, but at least on the mission trip, that my story mattered. That I HAD a story to share. That God DID have a plan for me. And He DOES have a plan for me. I learned that He uses my past, which I thought was average and insignificant and unrelatable to help others see Him. That if I pointed my story up to Him, and used it for His glory, well... it would bring Him glory. I really, genuinel mattered.

What's more, is that God is the One who mattered most.

And now I have a story to share. This is the testimony I feel like I'd go around sharing if I was asked to share more often. This is the testimony I'd tell you if I felt God leading me to tell you it. This is my story, and the story of God's faithfulness in my life (note that this is a lengthy written version; out loud, it would probably be shorter and much better told):

I suppose I'll begin with "conversion". I was about five, probably, the first time I decided to accept Jesus Christ into my life. I probably raised my hand in church, and prayed the prayer. The sad truth is, I don't really remember the first time I did this. I do remember one of these times, though, the one I considered "official", for a long time. I was eight years old. I raised my hand in Vacation Bible School, on that lovely altar call day I've learned to help with when I have led small groups for VBS myself. Several others and I were taken into a seperate classroom, prayed for, and given children's tracts. My parents were told. They were so happy and so proud of me.

I was raised in a Christian home. My parents are both Christians, and each have their own amazing story of God's faithfulness. We still attend the same church that I was "converted" in. But as many stories like this go, I really didn't understand God or my faith, or what I was supposed to do with this, until around early middle school. And at this same time, I began to struggle with things. I started to see not only God's presence, but the presence of evil and the presence of suffering. I began to see all the darkness around me, and I started to let it consume me. I started not only seeing the pain of others, but began to realize flaws about myself. Like how selfish I was. How fat I was. How strange and abnormal I was. I started to withdraw. I had good, close friends, people God put in my life for Him to work through, however, I was still struggling. I struggled with how I saw myself. I struggled with how I was unable to help my friends as much as I wanted to. I struggled with how the only decisions I could make, were my own. And I struggled with how I thought that I was a terrible, selfish, guilty person, who deserved to be punished. I saw my every mistake, no matter how small, as something huge and terrible.

And I wanted to punish myself. I wanted to hurt myself. And I wanted to make myself more acceptable, at the same time. I never did these things physically, but I thought about them all the time. On some occasions, I thought that I would never be accepted, or be acceptable, and that the world would be better without me, and that my wrongdoings, my sins that I couldn't accept grace for, made me worthless. Made me worthy of death. And like I mentioned, I never came up with a plan. I found a Bible verse in a children's daily Bible, about how helping others stored up treasures in Heaven. At the time, I really didn't care about the treasures. All I knew was that God had a plan for me, still here, still on Earth. That His plan was for me to help others. I took this as a call.

Things didn't get easier from there. All throughout middle school, and even in high school, I dealt with fluctuating self-esteem, and not forgiving myself. Not accepting God's forgiveness and grace. I dealt with feeling overwhelmed by the sin and the pain of this world, and of myself. Of allowing myself to fall behind. Of wondering what my purpose is in life. Doubting God and His abilities. Fearing the judgement of others.

But now, now I know something I didn't know then--God will work everything out. For His glory. For good. He wants GOOD for me. He will use me for the incredible things in His plan. He is already using me. He has already USED me! God is amazing! He has given me this incredible life, and at least two incredible spiritual gifts, and He loves me so much, and would never want harm for me. He only wants to bring me closer to Him.

So now I live for Him, one moment at a time. He is my rock and my salvation. And He loves you too, and has an incredible plan for you.