I didn’t know God. I wasn’t even aware of his presence… well, sometimes I was. I felt like there was something bigger but I never thought that any inclination of a potentiallyloving God was an actual reality for me.
But one day, something happened– something that changed everything.
…
Yeah, sooooooooo that’s notme. #NotMyTestimony. It’s the testimony I imagine (and most times, hear) when a “testimony” is shared.
It’s powerful, grandiose, and climatic; unlike mine.
Honestly, I feel kind of bad for writing a “testimony”.
I don’t know, I’ve just never felt like I had the right to speak of a “testimony” because I’ve always known God. Don’t get me wrong, my relationship with the Lord has absolutelyebbed and flowed and grown – and I have a lot more growing to do - but our relationship has always been fairly strong and fairly close.
Now, I don’t say this to rub it in anyone’s face – no. That’s the lastthing I want to do, which is why I never talk about “my testimony”. I just never think of myself as having a testimony worth sharing because my story with God is not nearly as profound as the ones I’ve heard. It’s always made me feel unrelatable and unworthy of sharing my “story” because I felt like there wasn’t one to share.
But here goes nothing.
First, I want to preface that, just because I’ve known God my whole life, by no means, indicates that I’ve had an easy one. The thing about taking up the cross (at anyage) means that life will inevitably be harder. When you take up the cross and decide to follow Jesus, not only will the devil do everything in his power to tempt you away from God but also, God calls us to do everything in opposition to the world. However, there is a silver lining. Taking up the cross makes life worth it - it gives you purpose, it shows you love like no other, and it gives you hope in something that will never fail you: Jesus.
So… (Gosh I’m nervous)my testimony.
*clears throat*
*takes a deep breath*
*awkward pause*
My mom and dad were… not reallytogether.
Like ever – you know?
They were best friends in high school (cute right) and then were on and off from college until the age of about 23 (yeah, not so cute). Both of them knew there was a God, but at this point in their lives neither of them pursued a relationship with HIM after they moved out of their parent’s house - no more forced Sunday church services, so no more God.
Anyway, they were just living and unfortunately (for their young lives), I was conceived.
*cue dramatic music*.
A few pregnancy tests later, my dad argued pro-abortion, my mom was conflicted, and my grandma argued anti-abortion.
About 4 months into the pregnancy, my mom was on the verge of mental breakdown; My dad’s emotional abuse and physical distance grew; and my grandma was getting nowhere.
All odds in their broken relationship were against this new baby. Instead of arguing and in hopes of preventing a mental breakdown, my grandma let it go and just prayed.
A few days without my grandma’s persistent pro-baby talk, my mom caved and my dad’s physical distance subsided because it was time to drive to the abortion clinic.
My mom walked through the glass door and was greeted by a nurse who handed her a hospital gown. The changing room was as sterile and pale as the gown she swaddled herself in. Three quick knocks and the door opened to a doctor greeting her with an icey cold hand. As he began to explain the procedure to her, tears streamed down her face.
God hit her.
He hit her hard.
She left the clinic with tear tracks under her eyes, a few pamphlets, and a fully intact womb filled with multiplying cells – filled with life; filled with the breath of God.
5 months later, she gave birth to a baby girl: 6 pounds. 11 ounces.
To this day, my mom says I saved her. But I didn’t. God saved her- and God saved me in the process.
I’ve always thought of my testimony as “uneventful”, “boring”, and “basic”. But after writing this, I’ve realized that it’s beautiful and grandiose in its own way. Not only did HE save me on that cross, but HE saved me in the womb; HE saved me before I knew I needed saving.
HE chose me and never hesitated – not once.
Not even twice.
But that’s according to me
Of course…
“Before I formed you in the womb, I chose you.
Before the foundation of the world, I gave you purpose.”
(Jerimiah 1:5)
- Kylie Haywood