Ever hear people talk about “the day they committed themselves to Christ”? Or you listen to someone’s testimony and they mention the specific day that their life was changed? Does it ever make you feel like you are supposed to have a certain day that your life turned around the same?
If you can relate, then you may understand where I’m coming from…
I don’t have a date. There was no day that I can think back to that my life changed. I can’t even give an “around this time” date. For years, I struggled with my testimony. “What is my testimony?” I would continuously ask myself (in fear that I would have to share it). I would hear others tell their’s and they’d tell the story like it was a picture – in great detail with a confidence behind it all. Some knew their age, where they were, who they were with. But, the ones that always caught my attention are those that knew the specific date. They remember it like it was yesterday.
Then, I would ask my self… what really happened on that date? Did they meet God that day and never look back? Were they given this sense of clarity and all things fell into place? Was it the first time God convicted them and they instantly obeyed? What did they hear that day that I simply can not hear for myself? Why do they make it sound so simple, like after that day…the battle was over, God won, Satan lost, they were God’s forever and it was just downhill from there?
“Surely, it is not that easy…is it?”
I asked these questions because even though I grew up learning about God, I never (or at least I can’t remember) had an experience in my life that left me wrecked for God. One that made me turn to Jesus and continue living for Him from that point on. I knew Him, but I would often choose to know Him when the time was convenient for me. When I had room to obey him. But, if it inconvenienced me in any way or went against what I really, really wanted to do, I disregarded him as best as I could. I knew plenty about Him, I was familiar with the stories, I learned fun songs, I even devoted months to teaching at a Christian sports camp; but nothing life changing. To be honest, all it did was make me more and more aware of who other Christians expected me to be, what others expected me to know and how exactly I should act so that I can fit in to make a surface act of the “Christian lifestyle”.
I’m not just talking about my life as it was years ago, I’m talking about DAYS ago. As little as two days ago, I was just living to look the part. I knew how to walk the walk and talk the talk in the Christian world. I knew the Christian language and the Christian way to pray. I’m not saying I did all these things for show, but I am saying that I learned of a stereotypical life that a Christian was to follow and I attempted to follow it from front cover to back.
This life had no room for error. It was perfect in every way. It was a pretty girl who made no mistakes. It was Biblical knowledge and full of a language that I would never speak in regular conversation. It resembled control and understanding. It encompassed a life full of joy, a smile on my face (unless I was okay with several people asking me “What’s wrong?”) and a kept composure that eliminated any reason for people to question my deeper issues. It meant tip-toeing or else you get a response of hurt feelings and defensive behaviors. It was a life devoted to sharing the gospel. The life meant you were already ministered to enough so that you could minister to all the others. All-knowing. The lifestyle was the fabricated image of a “Christian”.
Two nights ago…
August, 4th, 2008…
I was wrecked.
