Monday, 30 March 2009

• My Testimony

  
  

  Blessed Assurance

  
  

  This is my story, my testimony.

  
  

  My birth was in the beginning of the year.  I was number 6 of 7 for Dad, and number 7 of 8 for Mom, combined I was number 11 of 12; but the 2^nd and middle child of theirs together, the last 3.  None of either of their older children lived with us after I was a few months old.

  
  

  Living in tornado alley gave opportunity for one to jump start my memory processes.  Most children don’t remember their toddler stage, but I do.  I was not able to walk when a tornado hit our home.  I remember screaming for Dad when he ran from the cellar back to the house to get my bottle.  I watched in terror as he was stopped dead still on his way back to the cellar while the tornado emptied his pockets and tore the roof from the house.

  
  

  From then on I clung to Dad every possible moment I could.  The fear of loosing him made for one very obedient daughter.  Whatever Dad said I obeyed, no questions asked, no doubts.

  
  

  Dad was a preacher in his early years, but never preached after he was discharged from the military, to the best of my knowledge; except to us.  He seemed to distrust churches, but was a God fearing, honorable man.  He taught us from the Scriptures himself.  He would take us to church on special occasions.

  
  

  One time in particular was during a revival the year I was 4.  I remember the date very well, and am sure I will never forget it for it is when I became a ‘Christian’.  I didn’t really understand what it meant at the time, I just knew it is what I became.

  
  

  It was the last day of the revival and the church was putting on a very special play to end it.  We went because some of our relatives were in it.  There is a video on the internet which sums up the play.  It was about life and how we start out a child of God, and then as we grow up and reach the age of accountability our choices of disobedience separate us from Him.  He longs for our return to obedience and a right relationship with him, but we are often too distracted to notice Him.  It was actually a double play.  On one side of the stage was one person who kept disobeying and ignoring God’s call to repent.  The other side was someone who had disobeyed but eventually repented and returned to Christ.

  
  

  Christ was encouraging them to do right and calling to them, but there were demons tempting these guys during their lives.  I was so scared I was squeezing up against Dad as tight as I could.

  
  

  When they reached the end of their lives, Christ came for the repentant one.  I was happy and left Dad’s side trying to see where He was taking him.  Then from the back of the church I heard this horrific laugh and Satan came running up the isle and taunting everyone.  I screamed and jumped into Dad’s lap, but not taking my eyes off Satan.  Once he ran up on stage he grabbed the sinner and took him to Hell.

  
  

  I have never been so scared in all my life.  I begged Dad not to let Satan take me to Hell.  I was 4 years old and what Dad said to me shocked me.  He said he couldn’t protect me from Satan.  I couldn’t breath.  I thought I was going to die.  My Daddy, my protector, the master of my little 4 year old universe was telling me he couldn’t protect me from the most evil thing in existence.  I felt as though I was going to faint, then Dad pointed to ‘Christ’ and said “He can.”  I jumped down, ran up to ‘Christ’ and begged him to take me with him.  Dad had to get me and explain this wasn’t the real Christ.  He told me about the real Christ and I had to ‘accept’ Him into my heart before He could protect me, or take me with Him.

  
  

  There I was, a 4 year old innocent child, not understanding right or wrong, but just knowing I didn’t want to go to Hell.  I knelt at the altar with Dad and begged God to forgive me and declared my devotion to Him and His word.

  
  

  For many years my relationship with God was summed up there, the evening I was ‘saved’.  I obeyed not because I knew or understood what Christ had done for me, but because I didn’t want to go to Hell with the evil one.

  
  

  We began going to church more.  If Dad didn’t want to go, he would often let us go with our relatives.  My knowledge of Christ grew.

  
  

  Many people wonder about the age of accountability.  I know exactly when mine was, and when you can tell with your child.  I remember the moment the knowledge of right and wrong blossomed in me.  Dad saw it happen.  I was 12.

  
  

  While a child is ‘innocent’ you will get those expressions of confusion when you are declaring the guilt and delivering the punishment.  They honestly don’t understand they just know you are mad at them.  A common phrase is the look of a ‘deer caught in the headlights’.  Literally blindness to why they deserve punishment.

  
  

  It is more than knowing you don’t want a certain behavior or action.  It is the understanding the behavior is wrong.  The astonished look will change to a look of embarrassment or deceit.  You will know because the ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look will be gone.

  
  

  When Dad seen the look change on my face he asked me “You know don’t you?”  I looked down, began to cry, and answered, “Yes, Daddy.”  He responded, “Now you really need Jesus.”  I didn’t respond, but my thought was ‘I know.’

  
  

  I never had to be disciplined again.  Mom continued to spank me for a couple more years for things I didn’t do or wasn’t my fault.  Dad accused me of a few things but I wasn’t guilty and he usually realized it and apologized.

  
  

  Until Dad died from cancer, I was the obedient Christian and daughter I was suppose to be.  I knew right and wrong, I knew my sins would separate me from Christ and thus would end me up in Hell.  So I did everything right as much as humanly possible and was quick to ask for forgiveness when I did sin; which was usually fighting with my older siblings.

  
  

  When we learned of Dad’s cancer, I wanted to die with him…and gave it my best attempt.  My last semester of high school was spent at home because I was so sick.  I actually was emotionally killing myself.  The doctors diagnosed me with leukemia.

  
  

  Dad knew what was really going on.  He finally got through to me.  He asked me to care for Mom and my little brother once he was gone.  He said he knew he couldn’t count on anyone else to do it and I had to survive to complete his responsibility to them.  I didn’t want to but I finally gave in and promised to take care of them.

  
  

  Within a short period of time the doctors said I was either in remission or was completely cured.  They didn’t understand because I had refused treatments.  Not only did my emotions change, but I began taking herbs to treat the ailments I had created.

  
  

  One was too advanced.  Endometriosis had developed in my weakened state.  We couldn’t find anything to slow it down.  The doctors said I would not be able to have children for very long and would need a complete hysterectomy by the time I was 21.

  
  

  This is now the summer after I graduated high school.  Dad was set on seeing me married and at least my first child before he died.  He got his wish.  He nagged at me about this guy he knew.  He even ‘set up’ chance meetings.  Finally the Lord stepped in and I met him in spite of my resistance.  He asked me out; I told him he had to discuss it with Dad.  I wasn’t living at home at the time because my friend and I were staying with her grandmother to care for her.  Dad called me all excited saying I finally agreed to meet the guy.  I asked him who he was talking about.  He told me the guy who asked me out was the one he had been trying to get me to meet.  I couldn’t believe it.  Dad wins again.

  
  

  Dad began telling me when I had to get married and when I had to get pregnant, because not only did he want to see his grandson, he wanted him born on his birthday, September 6^th.  Dad and God seemed to be working together, so who was I to argue.

  
  

  The day of the wedding I had big problems though.  I did not love this man.  I did not want to marry him.  I wanted to beg to be released from this deal.  I would later learn what love really is and learn I did, and still do love him.
  

  
  

  During our father/daughter moment alone before the ceremony, I asked him if he was sure this was what he wanted for me.  He told me it was my calling.  I asked him what about college and the career he wanted me to have?  He told me this was more important because the son I would have the following year would be called to the ministry and would be a great man of God.

  
  

  Fear swept in, I can’t do this, what if I’m not a good parent?  What if I mess up as a parent?  I couldn’t breath.  It was just too much pressure to put on an 18 year old on her wedding day.

  
  

  From then on I knew my life was not mine.  It was God’s to do as He wished.  He could do anything He wished to me.  He could request anything from me.  I was at His mercy.  For the first time in my life I feared God.

  
  

  I don’t remember much from then until we were about to walk down the isle.  I glanced up at Dad, and began to ask if he was absolutely sure.  I got out “Daddy?” in a very squeaky voice.  The ‘I’m scared and I’m about to run’ voice.  He looked at me, smiled, and said “You have to obey God in everything, even the thing you object to the most.”  The ‘deer in the headlights’ look was back I’m sure.  I was afraid he would have to carry me down the isle.  But I managed to get there on my own wobbly legs.

  
  

  From then on I have lived my life in fear.  Not fear of what God would require of me, but fear I would fail.  Every decision I have ever made I would second guess myself and doubt my final decision.  Fear I would mess up God’s plans for my children.

  
  

  Yes, Dad was there when my son was born, he even assisted my husband in coming up with a name.  My husband was supposed to name him; but he was having trouble and asked Dad what he thought about some names.  He did actually put the name together himself, though.

  
  

  My son was 8 months old when Dad succumbed to the cancer and left to be with Christ.  Now here is where I began to rebel.  I believe in healing.  I had asked for Dad to be healed.  I had obeyed in everything.  How could He not grant me this one favor?

  
  

  The day Dad died I was late getting to his side.  My son was a little cranky and was being difficult.  Once I got to Mom and Dad’s I put him on their bed to sleep and went and sat next to Dad in the living room, he was in his hospital bed.

  
  

  He had been asleep I thought.  Mom told me the doctor believed him to be entering a coma.  I picked up his hand, took a deep breath, kissed his hand, and tried to make sense of it all.  He squeezed my hand.  I looked at his face.  He smiled at me and said he had been waiting for me.  I asked if he needed to use the bathroom because it was my duty to carry him to the bathroom every day both for voiding and taking a bath.

  
  

  He smiled a little bigger and said “No, it is time for me to go and I was waiting for you so I could get you to promise to make sure my granddaughter knows me, and make sure she knows the Lord.”  I replied, “Of course I will tell her all about you, and I’ll do my best to teach her about the Lord, but how did you know about her?”  He said, “I feel her every time you carry me, besides, you know I just know things, like you.  You get it from me.”  He asked me her name.  I told him.  He was pleased to hear she would be named after my grandfather just like my son.

  
  

  Then he looked at me and said, “I will wait for you one more time, and you better be there.”  I replied, “I will be, Daddy; I promise.”  He squeezed my hand; smiled, closed his eyes, and left to be with Christ.

  
  

  Never would I deny Christ, but I was making sure He knew I was angry and wanted answers.  The next few years was pretty much me having a tantrum, stomping my proverbial feet and demanding to know why.

  
  

  I had lots of difficulty with the pregnancy of my daughter.  Then after she was born, the endometriosis worsened rapidly.  Finally I had the hysterectomy when I was 23.  We had to keep putting it off until we could afford it but finally had insurance to cover it.

  
  

  During all this my husband was cheating on me.  I didn’t understand how Dad could have made such a mistake.  Although, I knew he was right about the calling on my son, I could feel it.  Later in life I learned Dad didn’t make the mistake, he was following the perfect will of God.

  
  

  I couple months after my surgery we split up, but the divorce took 4 years to get.  I didn’t believe in divorce and couldn’t convince myself to go through with it.  Finally he got the divorce so he could remarry.

  
  

  There was a lot of things I went through I just didn’t understand and I wanted to know why.  Just before my divorce God made it where I had to listen to Him.  It was the absolute worse part of my life.  My demands to know why bad things were happening to me when I had always been obedient were more than ever.

  
  

  One day, when things couldn’t get any worse, I really had a tantrum and demanded to know why.  I felt Him push me to the floor on my knees and face down.  These are the statements I felt come over me.  “I am the Lord your God.  It is for My glory and My kingdom.  You are not your own, but Mine.  I say when you are born and when you will die.  Your father was a gift to you just as you were a gift to him.  You are to honor and obey Me.”

  
  

  Repentance was immediate.  Never again have I questioned him.  I know the answer for everything He does and allows.  It is all for His glory and His kingdom.  He knows what He is doing and He is in control.  Most importantly, He knows me and my innocence or guilt and He disciplines me when needed, whether for my benefit or someone else’s.  Yes I have been punished for things I didn’t do, but it was always for a lesson I would learn and be able to help someone else from the experience of it.

  
  

  More than ever I was a servant of God.  It was barely a step above slavery.  I was obedient, but my heart wasn’t really in it.  I was His because I believed in Him, knew who He was/is, and what He was/is able to do.  I didn’t fear Him anymore.  I just accepted I was His to do with as He pleased, but because of whom He was/is I knew whatever He required was for good.

  
  

  I went about raising my children in the knowledge of Christ the best I could, making mistakes along the way and trying to get myself right too.

  
  

  Then in 2004, an amazing thing happened.  God captured my heart.

  
  

  I have studied scripture before then and believed myself to be quite knowledgeable.  I had even studied to be a minister for a while.  I have read every bit of Christ’s life as recorded in Scripture and watched every scriptural movie and show.  All I ever received from it was the knowledge of who He was/is.

  
  

  Then in 2004 sitting in a movie theater my eyes and heart were opened up to not only who He IS but what He DID.  And no, I wasn’t the obedient servant I believed myself to be.  I was a sinful wretch He was tortured for.  I must be a very visual learner because it didn’t really sink in until I saw the gruesomeness of the movie and realized it was even far worse than they could depict.  I completely fell in love with Him.  He is the desire of my heart now, not because He owns me and can do whatever He wants; but because for the first time, I am truly in love with Him.  I don’t know how anyone can watch the movie and not end up exactly the way I am, completely in love with my Creator.

  
  

  I have gone through quite the metamorphosis since the transformation of my heart.  I don’t look the same, I don’t act the same.  It didn’t all happen overnight, I’m still a work in progress, or I wouldn’t still be here on this earth.

  
  

  Now I strive to please Him because I completely love Him and not because of what He can do to me or just to keep from going to hell.  Fear of either of those is a good motivation to obey, but He wants our hearts more than anything else.  We are His heart’s desire and He wants to be our heart’s desire.

  
  

  For the passion of the Christ, this is my story, and He is my song.

  
  

  Blessed Assurance

   

          Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine! 

          O what a foretaste of glory divine! 

          Heir of salvation, purchase of God, 

          born of His Spirit, washed in His blood. 

          This is my story, this is my song, 

          praising my Savior all the day long; 

          this is my story, this is my song, 

          praising my Savior all the day long. 

          Perfect submission, perfect delight, 

          visions of rapture now burst on my sight; 

          angels descending bring from above 

          echoes of mercy, whispers of love. 

          This is my story, this is my song, 

          praising my Savior all the day long; 

          this is my story, this is my song, 

          praising my Savior all the day long. 

          Perfect submission, all is at rest; 

          I in my Savior am happy and blest, 

          watching and waiting, looking above, 

          filled with His goodness, lost in His love. 

          This is my story, this is my song, 

          praising my Savior all the day long; 

          this is my story, this is my song, 

          praising my Savior all the day long. 

  May the Lord use this for His glory.

  Blessings,
  

  I pledge allegiance to the Lamb with all my strength with all I am.
  
  

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