My journey of faith...I was raised Presbyterian and would have said I was a Christian all throughout my childhood, but I really did not know that being a Christian was more than just asking God to forgive me over and over again. As a teenager, I got tired of being known as the goody-goody church-going type and set out to prove everyone wrong (it may not seem like it on the surface, but I have a very rebellious nature). My life then evolved around deception and the unending effort to prove to others that I was worth a second glance. I was also still living the charade of church life, stumbling into church on Sunday morning with a hoarse throat and a hangover. And the whole time I was lying, and behaving selfishly and dangerously, I still believed in God. I never doubted He existed; I only refused to be obedient because I didn’t see a big enough immediate payoff (whereas, earning friends and fun was my immediate payoff for living my own way).
When I graduated from high school I was so excited to move away from my parents and their rules and finally stop living a double life. I couldn’t wait to have complete freedom to control my own life, make my own choices, and really be the biggest, baddest partier of them all (ha!). I set out to prove to the world, once and for all, that I was cool, I was sexy, I was wild, and in no way was I a goody-goody! Looking back, I have to shake my head and laugh at myself. Did those thoughts actually enter my head? How embarrassing! However, my plan failed before it ever began because God had other plans for me. I ended up getting accepted to a college in San Diego, very close to where my older sister was going to school. Naturally, I moved in with her for my first summer away from Mom and Dad.
My sister has always been an obedient believer in God. She knew what she believed and never cared one bit what anyone else thought of her. When I lived with her that summer I begrudgingly went along with her to church and to her Bible study (more of the same charade, I thought). In the evenings, I would go on long walks alone, smoking my favorite cigarettes and dreaming of the exciting future I had before me (I thought smoking would somehow make me a cool rebel…give me a break, okay…I was only eighteen!). But by the end of the summer, I realized that my sister and her friends were different from anyone else I’d ever known. They didn’t just go to church to stand up and sit down on cue. They truly believed in the existence of God and in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ and they framed their lives around this belief. They read the Bible to see what God wanted for their lives and they talked to God in prayer together about the things that weighed down their hearts. They weren’t just “being good.” They were walking with God through life.
I realized then what I had been missing, a personal relationship with God, and I wanted it very badly. My own rebellious nature was still burning in me though, and it took a very conscious struggle between me and God before I finally acknowledged that I was willing to give up the control of my life that I had just newly gained. After staying awake all night, comparing God’s promises of a blessed, abundant life with my own desire for fun and freedom, I accepted God’s leadership in my life. Since then, I have been learning more about myself and Him and I have grown a lot from the bratty, rebellious teenager I once was. My family loves to talk about how different I am now from my former self. It is a long, slow process of handing over different aspects of myself to God for His healing and leadership, and we’re still not finished. I still make terrible, and often repetitive, mistakes. But as often as I fail, He lovingly forgives, and we continue together through life, with me growing and learning by His side. Instead of just believing in God, I am now walking with God.
I have heard the story of Charles Blondin, who made headlines in 1860 by walking several times across Niagara Falls on a tightrope. After pushing a wheelbarrow across on the tightrope, he asked the crowd if they thought he could do it with a person in his wheelbarrow. The crowd yelled yes! But no one volunteered when Blondin asked who would go first. Faith, I have learned, is riding in the wheelbarrow. Over the past ten years, I have learned that faith is more than believing in God; faith is trusting in God to be in control of your very life. My aim now is to put my whole self in God’s wheelbarrow, slowly releasing my white-knuckle grip onto what I have (falsely) believed will bring me more happiness in this life.
