“My Story”

I’ve been doing a lot of bible readings and studies lately that have encouraged me to share my faith with people. If you know me, you know that I live a very… regimented life. I have a routine. I don’t speak to a lot of people face to face a lot of the time – most of my interaction is online (something I want to change!) BUT I decided I would use this method to share “my story” about my faith.

So, yes, this is going to be a “God Blog”- I’m not sorry, and I’m not going to be upset if you don’t read it. I hope it’s not “preachy” or “offensive”. If it is, it’s not meant to be and I’m sorry if it comes across that way.

Anyway, here it is…

I grew up in a Christian home. The start of any good testimony right?

I knew about Jesus from a young age but I don’t think I ever really KNEW him until I was about 11.

I’d been going to church, Sunday school, holiday bible club, youth clubs etc for as long as I could remember but it was while reading a book (that I got as part of church loyalty prizes) that I truly came to know what it meant to let Jesus into your life.

The book was “Treasures in the snow” by Patricia St John. (I haven’t read it since!) In the story the main character is lost in the mountains on a snowy night. It’s dark, she’s cold and needs shelter. She comes across a cabin. As she looks in the window she sees a roaring fire and a table with food prepared. She knocks on the door but no one answers. She begins to think of something her granny (?) told her about Jesus and how He is knocking on the door of our hearts. There is no way for Him to enter- no door handle- so He can only come into our lives if we invite Him in- open the door for Him.

The girl in the book prayed for Jesus to come into her life, she opened the door of her heart- and so did I.

There was no roaring winds or flashing lights. No voice of God and no massive show. Just a quiet sense of… something? I can’t describe it. But there was a feeling.

That’s not the end of the story here. I was 11 (or 12) at secondary school, trying my best to fit in (while being bullied for a range of reasons). Now, I didn’t go totally wild BUT I did start swearing and being cheeky (“rebel!” I hear you scream!) and I basically turned my back on God. I mean, He wasn’t doing anything for me right now. I was managing fine. I mean, I had invited Jesus into my heart, what more did He want?

In 2009 I went to an event called “LOST” for the third year in a row. I sat at the back on the third and final night with some of my best friends (wearing a new T-shirt and jeans that mum had bought me the previous day. I think I’d got a new hairband too but I broke it the night before. Not sure why this is important but there it is). The speaker, a dude named Rick Hill- who spoke again at a LOST event several years later when I was a part of the LOST team which was cool because, well, he saved me… again… anyway- He spoke about being “lost”. He spoke about The Prodigal Son- how he had run away from home, squandered his money and, eventually, returned home to his father expecting no welcome BUT his dad ran out to meet him (not something that was done at that time) and welcomed him back home. He went on to talk about how God always welcomes us back. He spoke about how sometimes we can love God, invite Him into our lives but then we stray away, off the beaten track. BUT God is always waiting to welcome us back, with open arms. How God never leaves us, we leave Him-we wander away from Him. And how God is like the father in the story- so excited and so happy to have you home.

Then Rick asked us all to bow our heads in prayer. He, I assume, looked out across the room as he prayed and said something along the lines of “if that’s you- if you’ve wandered off the beaten track but you’re ready to come back. Please raise your hand and someone will pray with you”. I was shaking, close to tears and my heart was thumping like a big bass drum. I held off, dithering “should I..? Shouldn’t I..?”. I did. In one moment I decided “yeah I want that feeling back” and I stuck my hand up. Rick, from the stage said “yep” to every hand raised. A small word of acceptance that he had seen us. I still had my head down and eyes closed but I knew he had seen my hand- part of me prayed that no one else had! Rick finished the prayer and the band began to play the closing praise. I turned to my friend, still shaking a little and asked “did you… raise your hand?” She calmly said “nah. I was going to but I just didn’t” with a shrug. I nodded and pretended to look at the screen with the words on it. Then I got dragged out of the room. (That sounds dramatic! What actually happened was a girl came over to me, reached across my friends and grabbed my arm and said “come on we want to pray for you!” Which, for me, a shy and quiet girl who blushed when she spoke, was a truly terrifying prospect!).

I was taken upstairs and – to my horror- my youth leader / physics teacher / brothers best pal from school, BP was there. Of all people! I don’t actually know why I was embarrassed or ashamed to be getting prayed for, but I blushed, bowed my head and scurried past. I guess I just didn’t want to see anyone I knew? Anyway- To this day I don’t know whether he saw me or whether he thought any differently of me but it’s something I think about when I think of this moment in my life. That I, the quiet and good girl, needed prayer. BP was always so chill and I had (and have) a lot of respect for him as a teacher and Christian / leader – just don’t tell him I said that!!

The girl who had dragged me out of the hall (that makes her sound mean but she was lovely! I was just shy!) and her friend prayed for me and told me they’d look out for me at school and see how I was getting on (I think I saw them once? I couldn’t remember what they looked like really, I had my head down the whole time!).

But yeah. Again. No flashing lights, no thunder or booming voice… mostly embarrassment and… shame?? I felt bad that I, the “good girl” (who sometimes swore) who went to SU, youth club, church, Sunday school and whatever other Christian events were going, had to be prayed for…? I’m not sure what was going on in my wee head but that’s the feelings I got from that moment.

I don’t even think I felt peace or love or anything. Not that I can remember. But I do know that my life changed after that. I started looking into reading my bible and getting Little daily devotions (like “Word for you”).

GCSEs messed me up a bit though. That was a few years later obviously. I think I just went off the rails. I was an absolute mess and lost control of seemingly everything. I stopped eating, I got grumpy, I was violent and angry towards my family. Basically… I was a total brat. I’m not sure where God was at that time but I know he wasn’t on my priority list- all I wanted was to pass maths!

But my mum prayed for me – as she still does I assume. She told me that she was praying. (She still does when I work myself into a total state!) and I think that was comforting to me.

Even through those times, my faith continued to grow. I kept going to youth club (Limavady sitting ducks!), LOST, church etc. I went to summer madness and that was one of the first times I truly felt God’s presence. The first time I felt moved and I cried during worship as I realised how great His sacrifice was… it was incredible. I did a streetreach thing called “On The Move” Which was an incredible experience and I loved it so much- serving people in any way we could and people were always SO happy and surprised to see young people doing work in the community- for free!

I became a leader in Holiday Bible Club where I had grown up learning- now I was teaching! (And this year chloe and I were “the bosses” which was exciting and terrifying!).

The end of my school days were a complete shambles to be honest and the only “stable” thing that I had and looked forward to was geography (I know, I know, I’m such a nerd)! But where friends used to be a comfort, I found a comfort in geography facts. I didn’t have many people to hang around with in final year of school- apart from my twin- and so I burried myself in my work. (I should remind you here that the majority of my secondary school life was spent being bullied and hiding from bullies. Not physical, but stares and name calling… it wasn’t much fun. I mean I did have friends in my year but I messed up and lost them and any other pals I had were in different year groups and had their own friends in their own classes) But I think I also grew closer to God too. I remember reading passages of the bible in my free periods, blogging my thoughts on this blog and trying to write worship songs using scriptures I had read (and I was very bad at it so let’s not dwell on that any longer!). Despite my geography teachers’ encouragement, the joy of the subject, my closeness with God and my newfound creativity, upper sixth still wasn’t a fun journey and, hey, maybe I’ll talk about it someday, but not now. The point is, I think that was the year that solidified my relationship with God. The first time when I felt like He was the one thing holding me up. (Geography was – and still is – class though)

Then came university. First year was a real time of adjustment. I faced challenge after challenge. I don’t think I had ever known what “depression” was until that year (I’m still not comfortable talking about this either. But maybe someday). I remember emailing my friends and asking for prayer, reading my bible but finding no comfort. I cried out to God every night before I went to bed, begging this “torture” to stop. Begging Him, pleading that tomorrow would be better. I cried myself to sleep most nights. And the next day never was any better. I’m not saying I was suicidal at this time but I didn’t care much about my life. In the car or on the bus I would silently pray “God let it crash. Let everyone survive but me. Just take me”. Crossing roads I didn’t care if the cars hit me or not. I welcomed death but I was not willing to raise my own hand to do it.

It was a dark time in my life and, I hope, the darkest time that I or -anyone around me, ever have to face.

Day after day, night after night, crying and begging… and nothing got better. Nothing seemed to get better.

Not until I looked back several months later and realised that, actually, things were getting better. Slowly but surely. I had never given up my faith. I had prayed day after day, night after night and every morning I had woken up with a new hope. God was my hope in those days.

One thing that truly sticks with me was one morning I was going back to uni. Mum was leaving us to the train and I didn’t want to go. I was 18 years old and crying, clinging to my mum. She hugged me and whispered “you’re in His hands. It’s ok”.

PEACE. Such peace from one sentence. And I hold on to that to this day.

“You are in His hands”.

I got through that year (and the summer). Second and third year were so much better. I made friends, started sports, joined clubs and started listening to podcasts. Sports really did save me in a way. Sports, podcasts and the G.O.G (Grace Of God!). I felt closer to God after that first year of struggling. I realised that He was good and that He had helped me through that- that He had answered my prayers.

Since I graduated I’ve faced new challenges. The challenge of finding a job. In a world where everyone is trying to prove how good they are. And I’m sat here simply trying to convince employers that I am EQUAL to any other candidate they have. Because of my visual impairment many employers seem afraid (?) Of hiring me- How will I cope? Can I manage? Will I be able to do the same work as a fully sighted person? (The answer to all of these questions is, of course, YES!)

Rejection after rejection, one excuse after the other and I get really frustrated and angry and fed up of it all. What’s the point of this? I’m just wasting time and money. I’m a waste of space! I’ve gotten really down about it on several occasions (not quite “first year of uni” darkness but I’ve got pretty upset and messed up about it)

So many times over the past three years I’ve had to be reminded that “God has a plan”. Everything He does is for my good. Something will turn up.

Many times these have simply been “words”. They’ve meant nothing to me- “all I want is a job! Stop saying “God has a plan”- show me this plan!”

And then, unexpectedly, I’ll be hit IN THE FACE with something. A realisation that, actually, God DOES know what He’s doing. He DOES have a plan for me… I just have to wait. And then I get to the point of “I AM SO FED UP OF WAITING GOD JUST SHOW ME RIGHT NOW!”

But he doesn’t. He still hasn’t.

I’ve had so many amazing opportunities in these past three years. Teaching, acting, working in an office, babysitting, a lot of travelling, playing music, leading holiday bible club and JBC… I’ve learned a lot. But I still have a lot to learn.

I still get SO frustrated when I see people I went to school with doing so well. Working, moving away from home, buying houses (getting married?!!!). And I’m still stuck here, on the dole, looking for a job.

I went to South Africa hoping I would come home with some kind of clarity- a sign, someone telling me “oh hey judith you should do THIS as a job”, “oh thanks I’ll do that!” (And then get home and get hired immediately). That obviously didn’t happen.

Sure, I got a lot of guidance – a lot of people telling me what I’m good at, what I should try and what I should think about… I actually ended up coming home more confused than when I left! With more ideas and more things I “should try / think about”. But while I was out there I met some amazing people who live totally reliant on God- I’ve spoken about this before, sorry. Their faith still astounds me. I hope I can have faith like that. Just day by day, step by step, trusting and relying on God for every little thing! To me it’s amazing to have faith like that. I am, admittedly, a doubter – if I was a boy I would’ve been called “Thomas”. While I was out there I was asked (as part of the group), did I have the Holy Spirit living within me. I didn’t raise my hand. I didn’t know for sure so I opted for “no, probably not”. I don’t know why, but in that moment of being asked that, my head filled with so many doubts and questions.

“Am I even worth it?”, “why would God care about me?”, “What would God want with me?”, “why would He forgive me?”, “I could never deserve this!”, “why am I even here? All these guys are so HOLY and I’m just… not.. they all have so much talent and so much to give and I don’t…”, “I don’t deserve to be here”, “I’m pretty useless to be honest”. All these thoughts eventually reaching a crescendo of, “of course Gods Holy Spirit doesn’t live in me- what use am I?”

I wanted to cry. I bowed my head in shame. What WAS I doing there? I didn’t belong there, not with these confident, talented and enthusiastic people. And I certainly did not deserve God’s love or forgiveness or the gift of His Holy Spirit…

I was prayed for that night- along with a few others who hadn’t raised their hands.

Again, no big show, BUT, as Mr C prayed for us to be filled with the Holy Spirit I did feel… something. Something pouring into me. Gently, not a huge feeling or a buzz. Just a gentle pouring- a sensation of being filled up. And a feeling of peace and confidence (which, to be totally honest, quickly faded and was replaced with those doubts again… especially now that I’m back home. But day after day God is still reminding me that I am worth it and I am loved…)

I still faced some challenges out there and – as I said- came home with more questions than answers. But it was life changing – and i will be going back someday (God willing).

Since coming home I’ve made a start on applying for my PGCE. Since I was at school I always said I would never teach. When I did some tutoring in schools I said “I will never teach”… and here I am- Applying to be a teacher! I have my reservations but I’ve been told I’m good at performing and making things interesting and exciting, I’m good at working with kids and I’m enthusiastic about geography… I’m still rubbish at remembering people’s’ names though but I’ll give it a go and see what God does!

We’ll see how this goes. But I know that God has a plan for me. And His timing is perfect (I’m just impatient!). I still have my doubts – in myself and my abilities, my “gifts” and “talents” (years of bullying can have that affect!). I did an online “quiz” to find out what my spiritual gifts were the other day and that has made things… clearer? I think? I’m not good at decisions OR being sure of things!!) But I’ll keep hoping, keep trusting and keep serving Him- and keep praying – until something, His plan, works out.

And that’s about it for my “testimony”… so far. I’m sure God has some more stuff in store for me but we’ll get to it in His time. Thanks for reading. God bless.