I had it good growing up. I had wonderful loving parents and both sets of grandparents close by and I grew up in church. I knew all about God and Jesus. I could answer almost any question about the Bible and as far as anyone could tell I was a polite, well-mannered, all around good kid. From as early as I could remember I was taught to be good, make the right choice, and do what was expected. I was a rule follower and disappointing my family was not an option.
On Mother's Day, the year I turned 8, I did what was expected of me. I walked down the aisle of my little Southern Baptist Church with another little boy and we told our preacher that we wanted to become Christians. He asked us a few shallow questions and then presented us as believers to our congregation. A few weeks later on a Sunday night, I was baptized along with another 10 or so young people. But that baptism and even that confession of faith meant nothing. I was simply doing what I was supposed to do. My heart was not changed, Jesus was not my Lord and Savior.
As I grew up, I counted on my ability to follow the rules as my salvation. As long as I was a good girl, I would be okay. It did not take me long to figure out that I was not always a good girl, in fact I screwed up a lot. This realization led me to a cycle of sin, guilt, rededication, "be good", sin, start all over again. I was that kid who went to Christian summer camp every summer, and every summer I was that kid who made the tearful rededication of my life to Jesus and promised that from that point on I would do better and follow all the rules. As you can imagine, that resolve never lasted for very long because I was depending on my ability to do it right and I was failing miserably.
Around the end of middle school, I lost hope. I could not be good and I was messing up so much and I just quit trying. My double life began. I was the good girl at home and church, but out in the world I was the girl who lived for myself, doing whatever I pleased, as long as I wouldn't get caught. I was very skillful at this double life-my family and church friends had no idea the type of person I really was, and my friends out in the world had no idea that I even knew of someone named Jesus.
I kept up appearances so as not to disappoint those I loved, but in my heart I truly believed that there was no forgiveness for someone like me. God could save drug dealers and murderers and people who did not know any better, but God would not forgive someone like me. I knew the rules and the expectations, I knew right from wrong, and God could not tolerate someone who chose to break the rules. I was lost and there was no hope for me.
This lack of hope led me to also feel very alone and unloved and unworthy. I began to define myself by other people's opinions of me, especially guys. In high school I was so desperate to be loved by a guy that I was willing to do anything or be anyone, just to have a boyfriend. I lost myself completely in my pursuit of an illlusion of love.
My senior year of high school everything came tumbling down. I lost my first grandparent to cancer, I lost many of those who I thought were my friends, and I lost my boyfriend of over 2 years. I felt so alone. That summer, I did what I did every summer and I attended a Christian camp, but that year something was different. I was done keeping up appearances and I let my anger at God be seen by all. I finally admitted how worthless I felt and how shamed I was and how angry I was and ultimately how hopeless I felt. At the end of that week I truly met God face-to-face and he did not turn me away. He wrapped me in his love, forgave me, and called me his. That was the moment my life began to change, that was the moment I became a Christian, trusting in Jesus Christ as my salvation.
However, old habits die hard as they say, and even though I was a new creation in Christ, I still sought to define myself by the opinions of others and I still wanted to keep up appearances. I could not be baptized again because then everyone would know. So I ignored the prodding of the Holy Spirit and kept on with my life.
Then in the fall of this year I started Women's School at church. One week we were given the task of writing out our testimonies. Just like every other time I have shared my testimony, I was prodded by the Holy Spirit that I should be baptized again. Instead of ignoring it, I chose to listen and I asked the ladies in my cohort what they thought. I was encouraged to do it if I felt convicted. So then I talked to my husband, and after much discussion we came to the conclusion that I should pursue baptism.
You may still be asking yourself, why we came to that conclusion. Well, we believe that baptism should come AFTER a person confesses Jesus as Lord. I was baptized almost 10 years before I became a true believer. I had not been walking in obedience because I was afraid of what others might say or think. Finally, I stopped caring about the opinions of others and made the choice to obey my Jesus.
So last Sunday I stood up in front of my congregation at Sojourn and I made my sacred confession, "Jesus is Lord!" Then I was baptized by my husband and by my church family.
Since then, I have had many people tell me how proud they are of me, or how much my story touched them; and that is why I am sharing this long story out in the blogosphere. My hope is that someone will stumble upon this post and read it to the end. My prayer is that as they are reading their heart will be stirred by the Spirit and they will seek to know more about this Jesus. I want my story to speak truth into someone else story.
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