[note: this was begun on friday afternoon. first i just put off finishing it, then i forgot about it until now, which is sunday night]
the other night, me and my most wonderful RA were having long conversations about life stories and Jesus and all kinds of everything, and while i was going to sleep that night, i thought about God always being at work, and realized a thing or two about my testimony.
when i was in eighth grade, my sunday school teacher would always ask at the beginning of class if anyone had any testimonies to share. the first time he did this, i asked what this meant. i thought that your testimony was just how you came to become a christian(and for this reason, even before this particular day, i had never liked the idea of ever having to share mine, because at the time i had just said the cookie cutter salvation prayer when i was eight and thought that didn’t qualify as a testimony). he explained to me that a testimony is just a story of how God has worked in your life, either recently or a long time ago, and that sharing them was an important way for christians to encourage each other. over the years i finally grasped that truth, and then i’ve added to it some.
your testimony is never one story. and it never ends as long as God is still at work, which he always is. mine is long. i’ve shared it with a few people(never ever with a big group, i don’t do that and plus it’s a very ADD story and it’s so rarely possible for me to tell the whole thing in one sitting), but i’ve never written it before.
i accepted Christ when i was thirteen. i had spent my life believing that no one loved me, and no one ever would. i had done what most good little church kids do and said a prayer so i’d be able to get baptized, but i had no clue what it meant, who God really was, or why i needed to be saved. but at camp the summer of 2005, i met elizabeth teal. and a few other people, but that week was about elizabeth. she showed me not only that i was lovable, but what it meant to love God and actually have a relationship with him, not just hear about him every sunday because your parents make you go to church. that thursday night while i was crying myself to sleep(i don’t think anyone understands how hard it was for me to go back home after that), i asked Jesus to come in my life and change me. it had finally clicked. but this was only the start.
again, it’s late and i’m too tired to write. but over the next, long stretch of time, i’ll continue this. i have about seven testimonies in one, so as God brings each to my mind, i’ll post it.
yeah, i definitely like that idea better.