I got baptized this easter! Just want to thank everyone who came out to celebrate this happy day with me. Although I've been a christian for a long time now, it was still really great just to celebrate being brought alive in Christ. (thanks to DHC for the photo, 3 of us praying together after the baptism)
Here's what I wrote up for my testimony, wanted to share:
I decided I needed to believe in Jesus in 6th grade, because I didn’t want to go to hell. I was at a kids Friday night AWANA event with my friends and the leader (this huge white man) asked – if anyone wanted to accept Jesus he would pray with them. I was too intimidated by him so I never did. I officially accepted Jesus in eighth grade; praying a prayer privately to myself. I still went to church for similar reasons – not wanting to go to hell, get advice on how to be a better person, felt like I should.
It was during college that began to better understand what Jesus was really offering. But it was not so much through the exciting experiences with God I had, but through the darker moments. As a puritan prayer states – the way down is the way up; the valley is the place of vision. I often found myself chasing approval and attention from others (I still do); it felt almost like a drug, always wanting more, more, more. The acknowledgement that I got from others that my existence mattered was nowhere near enough to quench my longing, or to quell my fear that maybe it didn’t really matter that much. When I wasn’t getting what I wanted, I sulked and eventually just gave up. I went through constant phases of just wanted to be left alone, and to sleep, or watch tv; just generally not participate in life. Life fell into an emotionally numb monotony. I can’t say that I particularly disliked it, I was just – neutral. But what did seem unbearable was the repetitive stagnancy of each day; it was all the same, life without any discernable direction, just going in purposeless circles.
I had this habit of making myself feel sad – putting myself down, dwelling in my inferiority and all the things I couldn’t stand about myself. I knew I kept doing it because it satisfied some sort of twisted longing inside me – perhaps simply just to feel ANYTHING, even if it was pain. I knew I was being self-indulgent, letting myself wallow in self-pity; but I didn’t really care.
I finally realized- this is what Jesus came to save us from. This is death; these are glimpses of hell- less fiery than what I had once imagined, but more ominous. Above all, that Jesus had conquered death meant he offered hope. Hope that good would prevail over evil. That despite the heavy burdens and multitude of my personal demons – the battle was not lost! The fight that I had long given up hope on – was no longer impossible. Because Jesus had conquered death and hell, and He was with me. He gave me the strength to pick myself up and fight and LIVE. Jesus said, together we will conquer the death in you. Suddenly, what used to not matter (why fight if you know you are going to lose?) became infinitely important – that I fight and participate in life; not only for myself, but so that I could declare to others too that the battle was not lost! As death was conquered by life, I found I needed less and less for myself – ready to give more than I sought to receive. Overflowing with joy that I couldn’t help but share. The desire to love others deeply because I knew that I was loved. Alive.
I know what it is to be dead, and I know what it is to be alive. A few weeks ago Pastor Tom said – going from being dead to alive is a supernatural event. Of course it is! I thought. Clearly the resurrection of Jesus from a dead corpse to a living person was a supernatural event, duh! But in me too. To be brought from spiritual death to the fullness of spiritual life – could only be the work of my supernatural savoir.
