Hey!
Okay so the story of how I became a Christian really starts with my family’s faith. My dad was raised in the Catholic Church, and all my aunts and uncles on that side have remained Catholic. On the other hand, my mother’s side of the family grew up in a Protestant church, but most of her siblings branched out into non-denominational/evangelical Christian churches after college. My parents decided to raise my siblings and I in the Episcopalian denomination as the perfect middle ground for their beliefs.
I did believe in God when I was little, for no particular reason, other than that my parents believed in God and I believed my parents. I said my bedtime prayers and grace before dinner.
However, when people spoke about God in detail--like in church--I was bored, and I really didn’t think about God much outside of my ritual daily prayers.
Obviously, somewhere along the lines this changed. It started in eighth grade French class when there was no other way to describe me but “bratty.” Well, actually, I was only really bratty to one person, my 8th grade French teacher, Mel. The thing is, I was never mean to her face. In fact, I acted sweet and kind when she was with me. However, I hated her class, and I let everyone around me know it. I remember telling the other people in my class we should walk in late because it bothered her. I made ruthless comments about how she looked, laughing at the way she walked and dressed. I was so fake to this teacher who had done nothing to me. Of course, as I’ve said before, sweet Mel was unsuspecting because of my facade. Once, I had even sent her a kind email with the quote: “everything will be okay in the end, if it’s not okay, then it’s not the end,” when she told our class her sister’s health was failing (hint: remember that quote, it’s important).
Near the end of that year, Mel got really sick. She left school, and was in intensive treatment. Our substitute became our new teacher and it wasn’t a surprise that the following September we were told that Mel had passed away.
The guilt that I felt was indescribable.
I was sure Mel would now know all the horrible things I had said about her, and in my heart I knew she did not deserve that. My heart broke a little more when I went to her funeral and her family told my classmates and I (there were only 6 of us) that because Mel had decided not to have kids, she had always seen her students as her children. The family went on to say that they had heard so much about our class in particular. The six of us were her favorites, they said.
I hid the guilt for a long time. Anytime I thought about it, I would simply push it away. Throughout my life, I was known for being a “good girl,” but the things that I had said about Mel were burned in my memory.
In tenth grade my mom encouraged me to join my church’s retreat in the spring. I had been invited to be on the leadership team. Few people know this about me now, but I only participated on the leadership team that first year because I thought it’d look good on college applications.
It’s funny how God gently takes our sinfulness, and uses it to turn us towards Him.
One of the activities we did on the retreat was a labyrinth.The concept is that you focus on something as you walk through the labyrinth, and by the end of the maze, you will feel more at peace with your burden.
Right before I started the labyrinth I made the decision to confront the guilt I was carrying around since Mel had died. As I walked through this spiritual exercise, I prayerfully went over every horrible thing I had said about her. I confessed all these things to God as I walked and fully felt the shame wash over me. As I was getting near the end of the labyrinth, I just felt more upset with myself. I didn’t get any feeling of relief. I remember my last words to God as I left the labyrinth were “Well, that’s it, I did all these horrible things, and I guess there’s really no way for me to know that I am forgiven. I’ll just have to live my life hoping that Mel forgives me, and that you also forgive me, God.”
Luckily, God doesn’t let us rest in our guilt and shame forever.
Just two hours after the labyrinth, the bishop made an appearance as a guest speaker. To my surprise, the first words out of the bishop’s mouth during his sermon were “Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, then it’s not the end.” Naturally, I can’t remember anything else he said in that sermon because my mind was blown.
Those words were clearly God speaking to me.
In that moment I knew three things:
1. The God I had blindly believed in for so long, was real and alive in my life.
2. I felt that Mel had forgiven me.
3. Most importantly, I knew now that God had forgiven me and loved me despite my past mistakes. God loved me even as I had said those cruel words, and nothing else I ever would do could change this love.
God has given me other bold signs such as this one. However, this was the first time I heard Him loud and clear and was positive that my faith in Him could be trusted. I firmly believed in His existence.
This experience with God inspired me to really start to pray.
I now knew the God I was praying to, and I knew He was listening to my prayers.
Has my life been a smooth ride since that moment? Not at all. Has He been present through it all? Absolutely. He’s been there since the beginning, when I wasn’t even as certain as I am now about my faith. I feel so blessed to have been able to develop a more personal relationship with Him once I realized how much of a presence He really has had in my life. I hope to share more of my faith journey with you on this blog! I have so many stories to tell, you have no idea! God’s so good, isn’t He?
Okay girly, TTYL!
Alena
