Part One – My Story

Part One – My story

What’s my story? (Since this is very long, I’m posting it as three separate sections.)

For the most part, I’ll save you the entire autobiography of my childhood. :) But to get to how I came to follow God’s path and not my own, I should probably include a few details.

I grew up in a nonreligious home. My parents (to my knowledge) were never interested in religion much and we never ever went to church, let alone even talk about the subject. Because of that, I am absolutely serious when I say that I knew nothing about God. Nothing.  I was oblivious in all ways possible. I have mentioned in the past that the only thought that ever crossed my mind about a higher power was the saying that when it lightning and thunders, God is up in the clouds bowling. (Funny when I think back to that, but I always imagined that every time it stormed – that there was some HUGE mythical god up in the sky, deciding when it should rain or snow.)

And then of course, not knowing what else would happen when I die, I had the same thoughts of many Americans in the sense that I assumed my entire family and I would go to “heaven” because we were all good people.  Thinking back on that, isn’t it a weird (or scary) thought that non-Christians often believe, in at least some sense, that they are going to heaven when they die? Since Christ saved me, this has always been a real wonder of mine. It is weird enough in the sense that some of the people (who believe heaven is where they will go) do not even believe in God – so why would we/they think there is a heaven? Is it just because it is a much nicer thought than becoming worms when we die? And lastly, I have noticed throughout my life and now that nearly all of those people who are “nonreligious” but believe in heaven seem to not even acknowledge hell. As if there is only a beautiful, heavenly place in the universe that we will all go once we die, and at the very least, only the murderers (and maybe a few of those people we have never really liked in our lives..) might go “down below” into the fiery furnace of hell.

But that really is a subject that makes me wonder because I, too, grew up believing or assuming that I would go to heaven for being “good.” And what constitutes as being a “good” or “bad” person when you’re not a follower of Christ? US. We believe we get to decide based on our own opinions and morals. When in reality, NONE of us are good and we are definitely not worthy of God’s grace and eternity with Him. But alright, I’m done with that side note!

So, back to “my story.” For some reason people always assume I have been a good Christian girl my whole life.  I haven’t figured out why people assume that, but I would have to give the props to my parents for trying their hardest to keep me out of trouble growing up.

My mom was always very serious about not wanting me to hang out with “the bad crowd,” and of course that was the crowd I wanted to hang out with! That crowd, of course was the cool one – or at least in my eyes.

Not to an incredibly far length, but I had a few rebellious years in middle school. I would go as far as to sneak out of the house in order to hang out with those friends that my mom was against. And sure enough I got caught EVERY. Single. Time. And I would get in pretty serious trouble with my parents. I don’t know why I did those things, probably just because I wanted to be cool like I thought the people I was sneaking out with were.

Thankfully, I really never did anything stupid when I would sneak out or go somewhere my parents didn’t approve of. But I was risking my reputation so that my “friends” could go do whatever they wanted to without having to sneak out of their houses alone. It was really stupid.

But besides getting into some major trouble with my parents, the funniest thing is that I really didn’t want to risk my reputation. I still wanted everyone to think that I was a really sweet girl. It’s almost like I had two personalities – one side was that I wanted to fit in with those friends, but the other side was that I didn’t want anyone on the outside to think I was a bad kid. I think I did a pretty good job of hiding my rebellious side from most people (other than from my mom – who seriously would find out about everything! How did she do that?).

When I got into high school, I became friends with a group of great girls who were two classes ahead of me. They became my best friends and for the most part, I had decided that getting into trouble with the other crowd wasn’t worth losing my mom’s trust in particular, let alone any one else’s. I stopped hanging out with nearly all of the girls I used to be friends with, and those older girls became really great role models for me. They all loved Jesus and I knew that I wanted to be just like them because they were so nice to everyone all the time. Even though I didn’t know who Jesus was, I knew something was different about these girls – and it was that He was shining through them always. Those girls helped put my life back together and maybe it was because I didn’t want to disappoint them, but I think that is when I started to get my head back on straight. :) Those girls ended up standing beside me in my wedding, and of course I still love them to this day!

(to be continued..)