Over the last couple of weeks I've been reminiscing about how I came to put my faith in Jesus Christ! I thought blogging about it would be the best avenue because I shouldn't just share the "hope I have" (1 Peter 3:15) with just one person, but with as many who will listen, right? I'll leave out a lot of details, but I hope you hear my heart and know that I am where I am and I am what I am because of God (the great I AM).
Anyway, the story really begins back in 1990. My family had just moved from Edenton to Hertford. I had always been in private school (from preschool to 4th grade), so when we moved I not only lost my friends but also I had to adapt to a new social climate at school. Put it this way, I had never been to school with anyone who was black (then again, I grew up in a trailer park where none of my friends were white). So, I finally got some appropriate & complete racial mixture going on in my life:)
When we moved into our new home, I was immediately asked by a Sunday school teacher of the local church to come on Sunday mornings. Even though I wasn't very interested, my parents decided that it was the best thing for me to do. Think of it, I could meet friends and learn some good morals, too (a definite win-win).
Now my parents were both raised in jaded, religious, pseudo-faith (more like superstitious) families. My father was raised by ultra-conservative, Jehovah's Witness parents. My grandfather actually had quite an influence in building the only Kingdom Hall in Edenton. My grandfather was a good man, don't get me wrong at all. He preached to me, encouraged me to read my Bible. However, what he had in passion and being stern was only defeated by his penchant for discipline. There was no non-sense, little compassion and a lot of rules. It's funny that on his deathbed, one of his sons (my uncle) threatened him without compassion to sign over his estate lest he be put in a nursing home.
Funny thing is, my dad was the black sheep of the family, per se. He was the only grown child that chose NOT to go to the Kingdom Hall (like saying going to church) after moving out. I remember at my grandfather's wake my uncle telling my father that the reason why my grandfather wasn't in heaven was because he refused to come to KH. To them, my father sealed his damnation. It was cruel, sounded so superstitious and I wanted nothing of it.
Now my mom's lot was no better, in fact, it was worse. Let's just say that her parents would "consider" themselves believers but probably were anything but for the majority of their lives, which were spent either at work or in a smoky, drunken stupor at a bar or at home. I hope my family forgives the bluntness to which I'm describing this, but it's true. My grandfather was an angry drunk, the belligerent type. If dinner wasn't ready when he got home (he was a mechanic, meaning he could drink on the job) he would lash out at the nearest person. Most of the time it was my grandmother. A few times it was my mom.
I wasn't told these details about my mom's upbringing until I was about 16. And it furthered my suspicion, or complete doubt, that religion does anything good at all. Armed with the stories that come through the childhood of my parents, you could see why I naturally was indifferent to church. But, ironically, my parents forced me to go when we moved to Hertford in '90.
(Fast forward eight years of just going to church and nothing coming of it. A lot of groggy services I made it through.)
When I was a senior in high school I considered myself many things. I had gone through middle school being the one who was teased and picked on. I was a little chubby, talked a lot (still do), didn't know when to shut up and came from one of the worst parts of Hertford (Holiday Island). But I knew the power of words so I didn't pick on anyone for pure pleasure, most of the time.
I stayed involved in so many things, because the last thing I wanted was to go home with nothing to do. So I played varsity basketball, ran track and cross-country, played sax in the marching band and made as many friends as possible. I dated three girls my senior year. The first two were superficial, but the last one nearly killed me, but nevertheless changed my life.
For about five months I dated this girl who was so full of life, vibrant, caring, funny, gorgeous, you name it. Not to mention she was in band and a cheerleader:) She and her family were super involved in church (and so was I, not gratefully though). So it seemed like a great fit. I wasn't the chubby, unpopular kid anymore. I had lots of friends, pretty popular and quite athletic.
Through her I became more involved in FCA at school and we had a lot of deep conversations about the faith of Christianity, not the religions of the churches, ya know? She challenged me in so many ways that I thought that not only Jesus was the one who could love me no matter what, I thought she could do the same! Even though she was only 15 (I was 18 at the time), I thought we were destined to be, you know, together forever.
Wow, did that blow up in my face...
Towards the end of our relationship, after hours of conversation about the Bible, about Christ, about the state of the world and the way that it should be instead of the way that it was, I found out she was secretly having a crush/relationship with my cousin!
The summer of 1999 was hell to me. I was confused. I begged her to reconsider with no success. I had so much hope stored up in that relationship that I didn't know if having a relationship with Jesus was worth it because I didn't know if it was fake, too. I moped, sulked, cried, contemplated suicide more than I ever had or ever would.
My first year at ECSU was marred by it. I failed basic Algebra (due to absences, mind you) and got poor grades in Biology and lab. I ended the first year with a 1.6 GPA.
What really made the whole situation worse was that the majority of my friends were still in high school. I wasn't afforded the opportunity to go away to college directly from high school like so many others. So I went back to high school sporting events and such. Bad idea, eh? Yes, I would see my ex often...
However, I found comfort in the one thing I was still good at. Since my ex wasn't a runner, I could go to cross-country meets without seeing her. All my friends knew about it, so they didn't bring it up. So I would run every day in practice, not only with the team at ECSU but with the team at Perquimans. It was torturous on my body (as I was running 8+ miles/day), but therapeutic for my soul. I had friends on that team who loved God with everything in them, including Coach Mendez.
Little do they know, they inspired me to give God one more chance. I felt the Spirit that was in the conversations that me and "she" had. I began to read the Bible during my 2nd year of ESCU. And I read...and I read...and I read. I would bring an old pew Bible with me to every class and read it whenever I could. In some way I can't explain, my life became about discovering who God is and what He wants from me. For too long it was about discovering who I was and what I wanted to do and it lead me nowhere!
I had worth issues with myself. I didn't question if God actually existed, I questioned if He cared about me or anything that happened to me. And every time I did I found out that I was reaping the consequences of holding no one except myself an important. As soon as I discovered that it wasn't my opinion of myself that counted but of the One who created me that did, things changed.
I rushed and got baptized. Started to go to church because I wanted to. I transferred from ECSU and dropped what I always wanted to do, which was to have sports in my life, be a PE teacher, coach. I gave it all up (with my scholarship) to go to Montreat to study the Bible more.
I learned that the message of God's love, grace and the purpose of Christ's life, death and resurrection was not dependent on the messenger that gave it (even though my first ex nearly ruined it). I trusted God, not knowing much and understanding very little about why He cares. But when I looked upon the life of Jesus, I KNOW he does! Who cares about the why? Everyone just wants to ask why? God loves what He creates, even though we can be so self-destructive!
Even though I would have a rough time working at my first church, I pressed on. Even though my emotions would teeter because of stress my faith never would because God was immovable. I could only point to the fact that God was guiding my steps and His Spirit was calming me constantly from within to "make all things possible" (Mark 10:27). A kid like me could be raised by parents who went through what they did, be someone who despised religion and hated himself to a person who is rarely if ever shaken by humanity's evil (greed, slander, racism, whatever).
I am not perfect, not even close. Ya'll know me. I say "that's what she said" too much and tend to get heated too quickly still. But with God's perfect love, I'm alright with who I am. This isn't the end, this isn't who I will always be. God loves me in spite of me sometimes. Now that I have a purpose, that I'm pointing people to someone who is bigger, better, more loving, caring, powerful than I am THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERS! It was believing that I could handle anything that broke me. It was thinking that I could do anything if I had the drive, will power, etc proved to me I was weak.
It was me that proved God was real! No one could give me hope by saying, "I'm sorry" like Christ could because he "knows." He came off his throne in heaven just to know what it was like to be a man. That's the kind of God I want to know, love and serve. Forget all the other ones that want my obedience and for me to become godly because they said so. Gimme the One that reaches down into the pit to pull me up because I (or no one for that matter) cannot pull myself up by my bootstraps.
Philippians 2 changed my life. Check it out:
5Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:
6Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,
7but made himself nothing,
taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
8And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to death—
even death on a cross!
9Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
10that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
11and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.
Need I say more? Worship what (not just who) you want, but Christ my God is who I worship because He gives all so that I may just KNOW of him. He stoops down so that we may humble ourselves. He forgives so that we may be gracious. He loves all so that I may love Him. God doesn't exist because of humanity's need for a crutch, humanity exists because of Him!
It took me a while to figure that out, years in fact. A lot of prayer, reading and discussion. But once you "taste and see that [God] is good" (Psalm 34:8) nothing's gonna keep you down. That's the hope I'm talking about! That's the hope I have in Jesus Christ!
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