A Testimony: Courtney

   When I began writing this I dubbed myself, “an Isaac.”

   I wasn’t sure what to write, wasn’t sure that I really even had a story to tell at all. I heard this sermon a couple of years ago about how everyone is either an Abraham (a person of great faith), an Isaac (an average guy), or a Jacob (black sheep, prodigal son, that sort of person). I was an Isaac and the important thing was (as the purpose of the sermon preached) that I was content with my story, and therefore the life that God has gifted me. The day I finished my first draft of this post, I had three separate encounters that led me to see the perspective of three friends of mine on my life and journey of faith. I guess now I’m not so sure that I am an Isaac. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions. 

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   Most testimonies that I’ve ever heard or read are fashioned a lot like a story. There is a beginning, building action, the big climactic event of distress, the turning point, and a happy ending with Jesus. But I’ll be honest from the get-go  –  mine isn’t like that. I know that people say you’re not “born a Christian,” and maybe they’re right. But I can’t honestly remember a time when I didn’t believe and desire to follow the basic facets of Christianity.

   I was born into a family that went to church regularly, always provided me with a Bible, and encouraged me to pray daily. I gave my life to Christ and was baptized when I was nine years old, and I understood what all of that meant. I knew that I sinned, that I needed to be forgiven, and that Jesus gave his life so that I could be. I revered and worshiped God for that.

   My progression as a Christian was a very steady thing. As I aged and matured, I gained a deeper understanding of what it meant to truly follow Jesus and of the significance of His death and resurrection. Although at one point my family stopped encouraging me in the spiritual ways that they had in my youth, it was the first time that I saw (through hindsight) that it was me who wanted these things, not just my family wanting them for me. I asked to go to church, I prayed on my own time, I read the Bible to myself. It was no longer a family activity with parental support, but something individual and personal.

   I never experienced that one, epiphanous moment that many have – the moment when everything clicked into place. There were many individual moments drawing me closer to the Lord. Like a yo-yo I would be pulled in and then I would let myself back out. But no matter how many times I rolled down that string, the Lord was always there to bring me back up. And the falls have been shorter and shorter every time. 

     I’ve mostly struggled with the same root problems for as long as I can remember. Depression has been one of the worst, and simultaneously one of the best. It sucked, and it still sucks on days that it gathers strength inside of me again, but it has served a great purpose. So I’ve learned to welcome the trial for what I can gain from it.

   My first serious bout of depression was . . . well, middle school in its entirety. For a lot of reasons. So I went to therapy and took anti-depressants and placed bandaids over a thousand wounds that would never heal without stitches. My counselor was great, and I appreciate everything that she did for me, but ultimately her help was only enough to keep me from bleeding out until I could make it to the hospital. The problem was – I didn’t know I needed to go there, and neither did anyone else. So I learned how to change the bandages myself and kept moving forward, bleeding slowly but surely.

   The first truly divine experience that I can recall clearly occurred when I was in 8^th grade. We were doing this thing at youth group called SLAP – sing loudly and praise (or maybe it was pray?). It was the first time I actually felt the presence of God. And now that I’m trying to type this out I’m realizing that there aren’t even words to describe it. It’s electrifying, but in a gentle way. Powerful yet soft. Like this one huge juxtaposition – infinite righteousness, grace, and love dwelling in sin, rejection, and misery by choice. An incredible kind of love.  

   A few years later I was in a tough spot and nothing seemed to be able to help me. All the stuff I thought I had dealt with had actually been slowly simmering in the background and I watched as it began to boil at full force. My closest friends were all leaving me for college, a boy had left me heartbroken, changes were happening in my family dynamic that were uncomfortable. I felt alone. The depression I didn’t realize I was still struggling with resurfaced. I felt abandoned. I felt used. I felt belittled. I felt lost. I felt inadequate. I felt jealous. I felt embarrassed. I felt dead inside.

   
   Giving it all to God was not something that I had been familiar with at that point. Knowing that “Jesus saves me” doesn’t always translate to “I can lay every single pain and struggle I have on the cross”. But with the help of a book called The Shack, many conversations with my best friend’s mother,  and realizing for the first time that God would (I knew he could do anything) speak directly and personally to me through other people, I was able to realize that I was okay. That I would be okay. That Jesus could unlock me from the mental torture chamber I had created for myself.

   It has been a very slow process of healing, and something I honestly think I’ll wrestle with for the rest of my life. I discovered how much I was loved and accepted in Christ. I began to understand that I was worth something no matter what anyone else said or did to me. I started to see that the Lord would always provide for me (if not in the way I expected or thought I wanted). But that didn’t mean that my life was then after sinless, easy, and void of a depressive mentality. Not a bit. 

   It was a constant battle to remember and apply those things, as well as new ones that I came upon. I’ve had my fair share of really bad mistakes and running in the complete opposite direction from God. And I’ve had to learn painfully and slowly that even though Jesus could break the chains every time I bound myself with them, a lot of the time he would give me the key and sit with me until I unlocked myself. 

   BUT I had found something that worked. Something that really, truly, long-term worked in 1) improving my quality of life and 2) displaying God's love. Through all of this and some other things along the way, I developed a passion for Christ-centered counseling. Because I truly believe that it works. I’ve seen my life, and the lives of many people around me, receive healing transformation in Jesus. Depression, anxiety, relationship problems, alcoholism, sexual problems, abuse, addiction, mourning – these are the things I’ve seen God’s love heal. The Gospel is where we can go and lay our burdens to rest, and in return we are comforted and set free. 

These experiences have sparked a desire in me to share this kind of therapy with anyone who wants to listen, anyone who wants to try something new when nothing else is working, and in anyone who knows that this is the way but doesn’t know how to get there. If you’re interested in hearing more, for any reason, feel free to respond in the comments below, or send us a private Facebook message or email. I would love to chat with you about it! 

-Courtney

A Testimony: Ariel

  

   Courtney and I have decided to share our testimonies, though not at the same time, because we feel it is essential in sharing our faith. We're hoping to make a series of it, and be able to share others as well! Telling mine, unfortunately, is not something I've done many times, so this is a tad uncomfortable for me. In fact, let me tell you that I am terrified right now. One of the biggest things Yeshua has been doing in my life lately, however, is making me uncomfortable and through that, growing and strengthening me. So, I’m gonna do it!
My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress, I will never be shaken.
Psalm 62:1-2


                                                                It starts......
    My family is literally amazing. I have been surrounded by love and support since before I was born. My Poppa tells me every time he talks to me that I am beautiful and that he is proud of me. Momma has always been one of my greatest comforters, sometimes just by the simple sound of her voice - she literally sings like an angel. I spent my childhood in Maryland and moved to Texas when I was about 13 years old. In Maryland, my parents raised us in the Church, the majority of the time in a Lutheran church. We are not Lutherans, my parents just really liked the church.

 
    After 9/11 (keep in mind, living in Maryland meant it affected us differently than it did many others, especially given the fact that Poppa worked in D.C.) our pastor gave a controversial sermon that caused my parents to sever our family's ties with the church. After that, we never found another church to attend. We moved to Texas, and never found a church here either. I had a good friend in middle school (we'll call her Wanda), though, who began taking me to her church and its youth group, with which she was very involved. I was in no way accustomed to the church life that is here in Texas, so going to church with her was probably the greatest culture shock I faced from the move. It was beautiful though, and I found myself wanting what everyone at that church had. The people of faith here are so in Love with God. It's not an act of getting out of bed in the morning and dragging yourself to church. They want to go! They love one another, are kind to one another, and there's just a light around them that I had never seen before.
Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.
Ephesians 4:2-3

                                                           

The worst part

    This is probably where I should make note of an important part of me, and it’s usually the hardest part for me to say. The fact that I’m putting this on the internet only feeds that difficulty. Although my parents are believers, although they raised me in the faith and brought me to church, I was convinced from the time I understood who God was that He was a myth. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he didn't exist and that everyone who believed in and worshiped Him was a fool. I never told anyone this until I was half way through high school, and even then, I told very few. So going to this new church with my friend, and seeing how the people acted and looked and felt, made me crave what they had. I tried, and I prayed, but a voice (we all know who that loser was. You may know him as lucifer. One of my favorite speakers, Tim Ross, calls him lucy, so we'll stick with that. And no, I'm not going to capitalize that fools name) kept telling me that God wasn't real. That I was right, that no one was listening to me, and that I was horribly and terribly alone.

   At the same time, I was comparing myself to my sister on a daily basis. She is older, incredibly beautiful, and was popular in school (and we all know popularity is essential to success in school...... please note the sarcasm). I also fought constantly with both of my sweet brothers, hated the way I looked and how I was known in school, and, again, knew I was alone in all of this. To cope, I began to cut myself. I did that to myself for four years.

    In high school, Wanda and I grew apart and I stopped joining her to church. But, when I was 16, I started dating a boy who then started to take me to his church. The hunger for something I didn't quite understand returned, and I began to beg for God’s presence in my life. My boyfriend and I went to his church two or three times a week and became very involved. The summer going into my junior year of high school, I went on my first mission trip with him to a town in southeast Texas that had been affected by hurricane Katrina. That trip was my first step towards actually taking God’s outstretched hand. I confessed one night to a good friend of mine about my cutting. She and two other friends of mine stayed up late into the night with me, praying for and encouraging me. After that night, I never hurt myself again. I eventually told them I wasn’t even sure God existed. Booooy was I wrong!

                         God held His arms out, and inch by inch, I crept into them....

    My journey was no where near over. My doubts continued, but I didn’t give up. Eventually, I graduated high school and went to college (which I’ve mentioned is a Christian school). There isn't a doubt in my mind today that Lord led me there so that He and I could finally become best friends and sweethearts. Every semester there promised some giant mountain I had to climb; appendicitis, a destroyed meniscus, break ups, lawsuits, you name it! My theory is that God was breaking me in every way imaginable so that I might finally get it!

Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her [boy did He!!].

Hosea 2:14

    I hit my lowest point in my faith by my second year of college. Although I had stopped hurting myself for some time now, my doubts in the existence of an omnipotent being were still incredibly strong. During the summer leading into my junior year of college, my boyfriend (the same one from high school - yea, we kinda stuck together for a while) went off to California for basic training for the Marine corps (oorah!!). This was my first time in years to not have him within an arms reach, whether that be physically or simply by phone (we dated long distance while I was in college, but we still got to talk every day), and it was also the greatest summer of my life. Note: that’s not a dig at him! He’s delightful. My summer was not fantastic because he was gone. It just happened to work out that way. 

                                                          THE BEST PART 

     One of my best friends (we'll call her.... Sanni) and her mom hosted a weekly event at their house that summer called “Dating Jesus”. Through this, the Lord woo’d me in the way every girl dreams of! Then, one night very early on in the summer, Sanni and I were at church worshiping. I was crying while we were singing, begging God to show Himself to me and finally expunge all traces of doubt in my heart. In the middle of my prayer, Sanni lightly touched me on the arm, and told me Lord was telling her something for me: “She’s the most beautiful girl, and she doesn’t even know. She doesn’t even know how much I love her”.... Without boring you with every detail of the summer I dated (and married... literally. We had a fantastic service) Jesus, I will more than joyfully tell you that I have literally not had a single doubt in my heart since that summer. And it has been pure. bliss.

 You believe at last!! [This is what Lord said to me during our sweet summer. I cried then, and I'm pretty sure I haven't stopped crying since. Tears of joy are one of my favorite things]

John 16:31

 
       I had been a “Christian” for about five or six years by this point. I was, however, what I think is a “Christian American”. I was a socially acceptable Christian, who lived with one foot in this world so that I could enjoy what it had to offer. My arrogant refusal to believe in the reality and truth of Christ, however, kept the Holy Spirit from consuming my soul. I'm not saying "Christian Americans" don't believe in God. That's just me (though there may be others who struggle with it). My doubt didn't keep me from trying to live for God, however, because all of me wanted Him to be real, and wanted to devote my life to Him. That's just not an easy task when you don't have the Holy Spirit living within you! I walked the walk (kind of), but had no internal transformation. This transformation, and praise God for it, is what caused everything to change. It’s what made me hungry to know the Lord and desire to pursue Him just as much as He pursued me.

                                                    And it only got sweeter

    I returned to school the next fall for my junior year, and was astonished to find that God was not done loving on me! I was enormously blessed to participate in a pageant that my school hold’s annually, and the Good Lord taught me lessons through that which I will carry with me for the rest of my life. It was literally a gift He gave me, just to cement in me His massive love for lousy me. He carried me through school to graduation and beyond, blessed me over and over again, and never relented in showing me just how much He loves me!

    To finish my story, I want to make one, very important point clear. Every day since the summer of my transformation has indeed been bliss, because whenever I think about the fact that I know, believe wholeheartedly in, and love the Lord our God, I am consumed with an inexplicable joy that can only be described as the pure joy, love, and spirit of Christ. However, I have still continued to face trials, pains, and struggles. I have known the heart ache that makes it impossible to breathe, and have had to make choices in my life that once would have been easy as pie (but are now tougher than the apples that go in the pie. Lame, I know. I make lame jokes. You'll get used to it). The Gospel, the Good and Wonderful News, is not a ticket to a life handed to one without struggles or strife. It guarantees the strife in fact. What it also guarantees though, is that this time, I - you - don’t have to face the hardships alone! When my heart is broken now, I can turn my face to the Artist who crafted it and wait patiently on Him to mend it in a way that no one else can. The Good Lord cradles me, kisses me, dances with me, sings to me, laughs with me, and loves me in every way I've ever dreamed. The feeling I once had was a hollow barrenness void of any warmth, love, or tiny trace of comfort. The feeling I am now consumed with is ecstasy, euphoric, elated, joy! The joy of the Spirit. The joy of our Lord.

                                                 It can be just as sweet for you!!!

My prayer is this: If there is anyone who knows the emptiness I once knew (though I don’t wish that on anyone), may they hear that it doesn’t need to be that way. May they hear that the hollow black void is a lie, and does not need to remain in your heart! I beg you to ask us (or someone you know who believes) if you wish to know the Lord. I promise you, it will be the hardest decision you ever make in your life, but it will also literally be the greatest!

   I love you. Thank you for taking your time to read about my love story :) Tell us yours!!!!
Ariel