I grew up in a conservative Catholic family, thinking that going to church and knowing biblical stories would allow me to go to heaven. I remember sitting in the front when I went to church with my parents on Sundays, asking the sisters why the moon was following me and watching people receive communion. At that point in my life, all I thought about communion was they put food into your mouth. My parents later sent me to a Christian elementary school for its academic reputation, but little did I know that God was already planting a seed in my heart.
Posted by Admin as My Story at 3:02 PM
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I sometimes feel that my testimony is rather unexciting compared with others’ stories of visions, miracles, and powerful conversions. Both of my parents’ families have believed for four generations, so my brother and I grew up immersed in Christianity. I have been a regular at CFC since the day I was born, and there was never a time when I didn’t look forward to Sunday services. The story of my faith after 20 years, then, is neither spectacular nor heart-rending, but it is a testimony of God’s faithfulness and the bottomless riches of knowing and following Him.
I’ve often been asked how I became a Christian, and here in Berkeley of all places–a college town known less for its spiritual community than for its spirited competition, radicalism, and liberalism. Growing up in this environment celebrated for its progressiveness and freethinking, the sort of Christianity portrayed in the media represented all that I was opposed to, with its constraints, intolerance, and closed mindedness. Indeed I dodged and avoided Christians as best I could, feeling alarmed at the determination with which many tried to convert me, wondering more than once whether these “believers” had a quota.
When I was asked by Pastor Ken to write about my testimony, I didn’t even know where to begin. There’s so much to say, but so little to say it in. So I suppose I’ll start with the most significant event that has brought me closer to God.
About two weeks ago, when Pastor Ken asked me if it would be okay to share my baptism testimony from last year, I told him that I would have to dig it up and do some “editing”. In my mind, I was going to revamp the whole thing to better “represent” where I am today. But I was reminded by a friend that the things I talked about in my testimony were relevant to me at that time, and might be relevant to other people as well. Looking back on this past year, I know that God was (and will always be) faithful to His promises.
During my junior year in High School, I began to ponder the meaning of life. It had always meant being happy, successful, and living my life to the fullest through doing activities. I wasn’t facing reality. When I heard about people who died young, or when I almost died crossing a street, life begins to seem short, perhaps shorter than I would like. What if I died tomorrow, or later, at a time when I had not pursued my happiness or obtained an undergraduate degree? Where would I end up? All the things that I worked for, such as grades, would be useless. At that time, this feeling of uncertainty and hopelessness leads me to consider committing suicide…