This is a very personal blog to me. This is the ever evolving story of my coming to the feet of Jesus Christ, my personal Savior. It is a unique journey and is mine alone. I want to try to capture all of the details regarding my faith. And I do this for my benefit. Because I know that there will be times that I may want to look back and remind myself of days and moments that meant so much to me. You may ask me my name. And I may reveal that to you. But not right now. I will do so when I have reach the end of my story. Where ever the end may be.
So, let me begin.
I was raised in a family that was grounded in faith. But that faith was not actually taught daily in my home growing up. My father came from a home where Christian faith was prominent and alive. But my mother, while being raised in a religious home, did not practice faith in our home. I don't know but I believe that the decision to not raise us as "church going" children may have been hers. But I cannot say for sure. I know at the time of her passing, she had found her way to acceptance of Jesus Christ. My father, he never let his faith dwindle. He had a strong sense of Christian life and was always ready to talk to us about faith and questions that we had. I had some.
I did reach a point in my early adult years where I began to question why I was here. Why was my life so empty and felt like something was missing. My dad had a lot of influence on my faith. When questioning things, he would always tell me that all I had to do was ask for Jesus to come into my life. My dad was the one that helped my older sister find faith and he helped me too. We went to church together for awhile but this was back in probably 1980 or so.
I must tell you how I came to believe. My life was really in a dark place and I was heartbroken. My love, the one that I was to marry, decided that was not going to happen and broke off the engagement. I was devastated. I search for things to ease my pain. I was really feeling empty. So I ask, thru my tears, for Jesus to come into my life and help me to overcome this despair. He did. Oh how he did! I felt a touch on my shoulder, while I was laying crumpled in my tears. And all of the dark feelings left me instantly. Listen, maybe you don't believe this. That's ok. This is my experience and my truth. This is my testimony. I was convinced that the Holy Spirit had touched me. To this day, I am still convinced. But faith didn't become permanent at that time. No, I had a way to go before I could find that kind of peace again.
The thing was, at that time, I was living a double life. I had faith but had friends who did not. I was wanting to be part of my circle of friends and had to hide a lot of my faith. I didn't want them to not like me! I wanted to belong to them... and to Jesus. It was hard. I don't recall ever sharing with them my personal experience. Not once. I remember the minister of my church asking if he could come by for tea sometime. I was living with a roommate at the time. I couldn't even begin to imagine what she would have thought if a minister all of a sudden appeared in our apartment! Listen, we didn't actually live a christian lifestyle then. I just couldn't bring him there. And I stopped going to church