Hi friends.
I believe that it is important for us to share our stories. I believe that it is important for us to be vulnerable with one another. I believe this is important because as we share our story, we share God’s handiwork in our lives. As we are vulnerable with each other, we glorify God. When I am truthful about my weaknesses, God’s strength is evident. I believe it is important to share, because then we can learn and see the grace of God.
My story begins when I was little. I accepted Christ into my life was I was just 6 years old. At this time, I knew that God loved me and that he sent his only son Jesus to die on the cross and save me from my sins. But that was it. I grew up always having faith in this truth. I grew up with my head on my shoulders, never straying morally and striving to be a good kid. I was blessed with an amazing childhood. My sisters are my best friends to this day, and my parents gave a beautiful example of love and marriage to my family. It was a supportive and encouraging childhood full of great memories and honestly, it was easy. I didn’t have to deal with anything terribly hard.
This all changed December of 2011. I was in my sophomore year of high school when my dad was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, a form of bone cancer. This news was not only the first truly bad news I had known, but also the worst news that I have come to know, and it changed the way I viewed everything. This was the first time that I truly turned to God. I prayed for my dad and for his healing. As I heard people around me say encouraging words like “God is good”, “Pray for his will to be done”, and “God works for the good of those who love him” my ignorant brain concluded that if I prayed, my dad would be healed. I clung to this made up truth during the 10 months he was sick. And when he passed away my junior year, so did my belief that God was good.
This, along with other unfortunate circumstances brought me to a very low place where I no longer believed in any purpose of life. I struggled to find importance in anything, I lost hope, and honestly all joy. Fast forward to the end of my high school career, I went to church again for the first time in a while. It was there that God brought me to him and I felt him. For the first time in almost 2 years I felt loved and accepted and known.
Heading into college, I decided to join CRU, a campus ministry, and it was there my faith was met with undeniable truth. God rebuilt the foundation of my relationship with him based on His true word and nothing I had made up. At a ministry retreat, God met me with an overwhelming amount of peace and strength about everything that had happened. Since my dad’s death, I was constantly searching for it to have served a purpose. I needed an answer to the “why” question. But instead God gave me Him. And even though I realized I might never get that answer, it was well with my soul. I have God, and having him in my life allows me to experience immense joy even amongst my most relentless grief.
Compiling many years, retreats, and a summer mission later, God shared his desire for me to “go to the nations”. He gave me a heart for those who have lost any amount of hope, purpose, or joy in their lives. I had known about the World Race for a long time before actually applying and throughout that time, he continually pointed me towards this ministry. He has called me to surrender my comfort, my belongings, my career, and being immediately connected to family and friends to serve him in this way. To love and minister like Jesus. When living in a world that is broken, the good news of the Gospel is just so good. So here I am, one who has learned how to believe in the goodness of God despite hard times. Now here I go, not for myself but to deny myself, to share that love and joy found with Christ, to be an imitator of Christ, and to fulfill the calling that God has given me.
“Sing to the Lord, praise his name; proclaim his salvation day after day. Declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous deeds among all peoples.” – Psalm 96:2-3
