Hey guys, I’ve put up a better version of my testimony, sorry it’s a long’un, but (in my opinion) it’s worth a read. God has really worked in my life! Never give up hope, he can overcome anything.
Growing up in a Christian family, I heard all the Bible stories and knew ‘Jesus loves me this I know’, and I grew up being a polite, well-behaved girl, who knew all the proper things to believe in to be a Christian. But ultimately, it was just my upbringing, it wasn’t that important to me, and church was rather boring, a routine and nothing more. Going into my teenage years, one thing was more important than anything else: approval from others. I was sick of my being the ‘nice’ girl meaning I wasn’t always the most popular girl. I strived to fit in, and for everyone to like me. I would lie: this started from a young age until I got to be really good at it. They were stupid things to lie about, but I thought it stood me in better stead of being liked and accepted: if anyone talked about something they owned/watched etc, I would immediately say that I did too. I even remember someone, remarking on my Christian family, that we had such a perfect family, and I protested, ashamed: most people didn’t have as good families as mine, and I wanted to be with most people. I was even ashamed of having an ever so slightly nicer house and holidays than my classmates: I didn’t want to be different. So I lied and lied and lied. I was convinced no one would accept me if I truly revealed myself. So I learnt to conceal and pretend.
At the age of 11, I went to my first Christian summer camp. I remember the atmosphere being exciting, and wanting to be like the older, cool, ‘radical’ Christians (which to mind and experience meant not wearing any shoes, playing guitar and having weird hair colours/hairstyles/clothes). I liked the feel of it, and would lift up my hands to the music and jump up and down and things. It was the first time I realised God could be exciting. Every year from then on, the pretending game continued at school, with me peaking spiritually every year at the summer camp, then the rest of the year wanting to be back there. My changed attitude would last all of a week after I came home from camp, then it was back to the usual. All the while, my relationship with my parents was getting worse. To people at school, I was this nice girl, friendly to everyone, but was really open to no one. At home, however, I was brattish and argued with my parents every day. I often remarked to myself that I was two different people at home and at school. I never told even my closest friends about the bad relationship I was developing with my parents, particularly my mum, who was struggling with depression and fits of anger at the time. Words my parents said stuck to me, I was lazy, self-centred, disorganised, undisciplined, unstable, unsteady, and untrustworthy. They only served to fuel the discontent, making me go further off the rails. I was maybe getting grounded every other week, much to the bemusement of my friends who thought I was this lovely mild girl, and that my parents were overly strict. In reality, I was rude to my parents all the time. Somehow though, God got my friends to go to summer camp with me at the age of 15.
I knew I wanted God to do something that year. I was tired of the act, of not being myself. I was deeply insecure and needed the love I knew God could give. I waited all year till Soul Survivor, desperately banking on it happening then. I felt God had told me he would come to me then. In reality he would have come to me at any point, but I set that date. All week, I would go into the meeting expectantly, only to come out frustrated. God was doing anything. I would see all these people having God experiences, and as for me…nothing. I was angry at God. What was he doing? Was I not wanted? Day by day went by…nothing. Finally, the end meeting finished. I was overwhelmed. God hadn’t come. My youth group gathered round my friend who wanted prayer, but I found I was too choked up to pray; I broke away, heartbroken. Once they’d finished, I asked her to pray for me, and eventually everyone else gathered round. I wept. I cried and cried out to God. And I shook. I was overwhelmed with my need for God., and just asked the Holy Spirit to come. I then felt what has to be a wave of just…I don’t know…love, and peace, crash into me and, literally, knock me off my feet. Wow. I was on the ground, shaking, for I don’t know how long. When I finally got up, I was changed. Fundamentally changed.
That whole year was an awesome one, I really strived to get closer to God, and I really saw him work in my life, I felt so close to Him and everyone saw the difference. I wish I could say that was the end of the story but it wasn’t. After finishing my GCSEs (16-year-old’s exams), I chose to go (where I felt God was calling me) to a Christian schools’ sixth form instead of my own. I was excited about my decision until I actually arrived. As the sixth form was made up of two different schools, 80% of the people there had come from either school. They all already had friendship groups. I knew no one. I’d never been the new girl before, and had always enjoyed a wide circle of friends. Old insecurities kicked back in again. I was so lonely, and frightened. I remember I would keep taking toilet trips just because I found all the social situations really hard to cope with. The devil had me once again. Instead of running to God with all of this insecurity and loneliness, I’m afraid to say I went the opposite way, trying to do it myself. I got seriously depressed, but of course I told no one, not even my family, ever the deceiver.
Finally, God gave me the most amazing set of friends, but unfortunately, the depression had its claws in me. Those were seriously, seriously dark days, and in attempt to find some relief I’d chase after guys, getting with random ones at parties. I also started to drink more than I should: it was the only way I felt confident and secure enough. I was dying, screaming inside, but still I refused to call out to God. This went on for almost a year, until one particularly bad week, where I’d as good as made out with my only just recently-ex boyfriends’ best friend who I knew liked me, and was planning on staying the night in another ex’s uni accommodation. Here, God made me meet a guy at a party. This guy was a Christian. Not just a Christian like all of my other friends, just because they went to Christian school. He was Christ-centred. I remember seeing how Christ emanated from him, and just wanted it. Ached for it so badly. I thought up till then that even God couldn’t get me out of my mess, out of my pit. But I thought he was worth a try. I remember the next day, coming on the bus back from church (which I still went to at this stage though I questioned my beliefs because my parents forced me to, although I went hungover and would usually fall asleep in the sermons),saying, Ok God, I give in, it’s you now, It’s your turn, I want to do this again, I want you. Everything changed from then on in.
It was not an easy process of getting rid of the ever-lingering depression, and was a journey that required a lot of determination. But God brought me closer and closer to Him, and by Easter 2011, I decided to get baptised. That was a great day, and the Holy Spirit fell on me like a dove. Since arriving at university October 2011, I’ve had struggles with old demons, but God has conquered all, and I am closer to Him now than ever before. This freedom is unbelievable. The new now compared to the old then is just inconceivable, the change. I know now that God has a magnificent plan for my life, and I live for Him, with his passion, with Heaven in mind. He is all, He is so wonderful. Glory to God. He rescued me, although I thought I was un-rescuable. He still heals me everyday, and I am FAR from perfect, but Jesus’ blood covers me. I’m still coming to grips with how he could love me so much. I live every day to bring Him gloryl and get closer to Him. Hallelujah to the King of heaven, he has conquered all the darkness!
