Monday, September 20, 2010

                                   
    This is my testimony. My story. My declaration under the most profound oath I have ever known. Sworn in the truth that has so graciously been revealed to me; a man that was pitiful, meaningless, and all-together non-important in this world through his own eyes. I do not write these words lightly; as with most beliefs, this one most particularly is familiar with struggle and persecution. But it must be told, and not for the sake of myself.
    Something has happened to me. Something that began stirring a few years ago, however this something also lay dormant in my very being since I was a child. I was young when it began, this stirring. I don’t remember how old I was, and quite frankly it doesn’t particularly matter in regards to something of this magnitude. Age is no boundary for this. I remember not being able to sleep one night, my mortal thoughts trying to grasp the concept of infinity. Of myself being infinite, living forever. I don’t know what started the thought, perhaps it was learning about the concept of numbers going on forever in math class. Maybe it was thinking where I would go when I died. I don’t know. All the same, this thought was there. I felt like I had almost grasped this concept, that I could actually somehow imagine what it would be like, and then it would slip from my grasp like trying to grab air. This made me feel sick to my stomach. I wanted to throw up. So you know what I did? I pushed it away. Even so young, my pride was so strong, I did not want to dabble such powerful things that were out of my control. I stilled the stirring, and never let it come up again in spite of myself. Oh, if only someone had told me what it was. If only I had asked so long ago!
    But I didn’t. I went on through school and life and came to meet a young girl who I was quite fond of. She told me about God. I listened, but did not understand. I came to love her, and when we separated, so too did I separate with Him. I hated Him. Even so young, my pride so strong, I refused to come to grips with losing, of coping. So I shoved it all away, or so I thought. I had actually contained it within myself, and it was going nowhere. In fact, it was festering. And this festering wound, never appropriately healed, scabbed over this stirring, and it subsided. But unlike my childhood where the stirring lay dormant; now, in my young adulthood, it fought like a cornered animal. It pulsed within me painfully, and I had no idea what it was. It frightened me. I was more sensitive, yet my heart was still hardened. I felt compassion where I never had before, yet my pride battled with it. I understood love meant sacrificing for others; and I hated it, but I still felt compelled to do it.
    I got into bad things. Things that most teenagers get into but never really get out of. Well, I got out of it. Slowly, and with the help of a different group of friends. Ones that actually cared what you said? It sounded strange to me. But I pursued relationships with them, I knew I had to. It also may have been due to the fact that the girl I loved was also within this sphere of friends, which was an entirely selfish decision. However, I look back now and see that everything happened exactly how it was supposed to be. And for a reason. I started learning about God again, and Christians.
    I don’t remember the exact moment, there were many of them, and they still occur in me to this day. But there was a time when I began learning all these things through reading, talking, and thinking that I finally came to the realization that there indeed was a God. Mind you, I am one of the most skeptical people I know. This took a long time to get through my thick skull. I needed proof in my mind. But the truth was so powerful, so tangible, that proof was no longer needed. I discovered that it negated the very reason of faith. I discovered that I was a sinful, wretched, despicable excuse for a man. That I had been living in opposition in a world designed to be lived in a certain way. I learned that we were made in His image. That the very nature of God was love. It was no longer a feeling. It felt as though a ponderous weight had been lifted off my weary shoulders, yet at the same time I felt so hopeless. I was a sinner, I was no longer in control, and I could not talk, bribe, hide, or earn my way out of it.
     But, God did something for me. For you. He sent down his Son to save the world. Since that truth, that Gospel, has been shown to me, I have clung to it (however sometimes, admittedly, doubtfully) and since I have understood it, I have strived to become a disciple of Jesus Christ. Since then, my life, still full of strife and struggles (even more so now since I am perceived as a great threat to the devil), has been gracefully privileged with new light, hope, understanding, and happiness. I attended Kuyper College, for which this blog is an assignment for in one of my classes. I am marrying the same girl who I have loved since the beginning, Emily. And I am surrendering this stirring, this Holy Spirit,  to take precedence over my whole life.

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