Monday 6 February 2017

My Testimony

This is something I've been working on for a long time, but for some reason, have always struggled to compose. I've always said that I don't feel like I have a testimony. I never really had that "A-ha!" moment where things clicked into place. I just grew up in church. I never had a time where I didn't know God.

I've recently been working through some issues from my past. I've been haunted and really struggling, and was considering speaking to a therapist or counsellor, but I am reminded that I have unrestricted access to THE counsellor!

The Holy Spirit is my confidante. He is my support system. He is my security and my shield. He is my strength. He is my counsellor!

I guess that it seems appropriate to merge the following two topics. I kind of feel that they are linked somehow, anyway.

If you've read My Journey, you'll be familiar with my introduction to Christ. Here's a quick overview:

I grew up from the age of around two, in a very humble, small town Baptist church (UK Baptist, not American Baptist!) I knew all about Jesus. I knew about God. The finer details weren't really very well understood yet, but I knew about how God loved me and that He wanted me to be a good person and follow the narrow path. I considered myself a Christian and would tell everyone about it! I knew lots of Bible stories and songs but they were just stories and songs without understanding or feeling.

I had a couple of years as a teenager where I didn't attend church very regularly. Occasionally I joined my Mum at a Pentecostal church in a nearby town. I still loved God and wanted to be who He wanted me to be, but He wasn't as present in my life as He could have been.

**
Mum, if you're reading this, please stop here for now. I'm not ready to talk about this face-to-face just yet.
**

When I was fifteen, I begrudgingly entered into a relationship with a friend who had been obsessed with me for some time. I didn't like him in that way but our other friends convinced me to give him a chance, just for a few weeks, and see if it turned into anything.

He was controlling and possessive. Jealous and aggressive. I was fifteen and genuinely feared for my life around him.  A few months into our relationship, he took my virginity, without my consent, and then had the audacity to joke and boast about it. My mum's words kept coming back to my mind, "Your dad was my first, and that's how it should be." I was trapped. I was going to have to marry him and stay with him forever. Nobody else would want me now, anyway, and God would consider me yoked to him if we had 'lain together'. Would it be a sin for me to leave him now? Would I be promiscuous? Adulterous? Would I even survive another argument with him where he choked me up against the wall or locked me in the house? What is wrong with me that I get abused at every junction of my life?!

Five years and an unwanted mortgage later, I was still trying to get out. I was now 20 and had missed out on being a teenager. My friends were long gone as he didn't approve. I didn't see much of my family as he didn't like them. I didn't go to church as he didn't trust me. Every day he would go to work and I would pray that he was in a fatal car wreck or a freak accident on the building site. I fantasised about moving all my belongings out before he got home.

I found comfort in a new Bible I secretly bought for myself and sought refuge in the Religion and Spirituality forum on Yahoo Answers. I remember listening to Hillsong on my iPod, kneeling on the floor with tears streaming down my face, as I sought God's will for my life. I begged Him to take the situation out of my hands and to help me. I spent hours at a time, face down in the tear-soaked carpet, crying out for God to show me His will.

Show Me Your Way, and I Give You My Heart were the songs I broke my heart to, singing them with every fiber of my being. Desperately feeling each and every word and praying that He would rescue me.

I didn't know it at the time, but those broken, desperate days are when I became a true Christian. Where I truly opened my heart and invited Jesus in. When I begged Him to take over my life and use me in any way He saw fit for His purpose. I hadn't been to church for years, had given up on the Bible when Deuteronomy became too much to cope with, and my notepad was already full of questions from the first two books! I was lost and broken and without direction, but I became a Christian right there on that carpet.

I started going to the Pentecostal church again, and they were holding revival meetings at a local sports college. I felt God's presence as I never had before. I felt safe. A few weeks later I enquired about being baptised and was asked whether I was a Christian. At this point in my journey, I was very young and believed that I couldn't be a Christian as I hadn't said "the prayer" yet - the special 'becoming a Christian' prayer - I had been very careful throughout all my life to not pray or even read "the prayer" just in case my heart wasn't ready. So that night, with a member of the Pastoral Team, I suppose I officially invited Jesus into my heart and 'became a Christian'.

I spoke with a few members of the church, and had lots of prayer. I laid out mantles and tried to test God's will. One verse that was echoed around me by numerous people, was, Jeremiah 29:11 "“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

A little over a month later I found the strength to leave. It was difficult, and I was ill with stress and anxiety.

Over eight years later, I am happily married to a wonderful man. A man who is kind and considerate, who is respectful and understanding. I feel safe with him. He accepts my flaws, and my weaknesses. He understood and respected my need to wait. He supports my beliefs and respects my faith, and encourages me to make friends. We have a beautiful, intelligent, and happy, one-year-old son and my life is pretty great right now.

 Why, then, am I still afraid when I think I see him or hear his car. Why does his face still haunt my dreams? Why do I struggle with my mind replaying memories I'm desperate to forget?

I don't need a therapist. I need to get on my knees and pray. To talk to the only One who can help me. I don't need medication. I need to set aside the time to feed myself with the Word. I need to pray for a complete renewal of the mind. The enemy tells me I am not worthy, but the Blood of the Lamb screams that I am!

Healing comes in all shapes and sizes, and I have been promised my healing! I stand on the promises of the Most High God, and I claim that healing right now. In Jesus' name!