My Testimony
Created | Updated Mar 28, 2005
I have been a Christian for a little over five years now. My story is not, perhaps, the most astounding, but it is mine.
I grew up in a non-Christian family. My parents themselves grew up in their family churches, but for many years have only gone to church for Christenings, weddings and funerals. My father and my sister are particularly hostile towards any form of “religion”.
For me, all I knew about the Bible was what we were taught in school. RE lessons, from what I can remember, seemed to consist of being told a Bible story and having to illustrate it. Very boring. So as far as I knew, God was some sort of invisible being that I knew nothing really about.
I think maybe a part of me still had some idea of God as a reality, since they taught us RE in school, and they didn’t lie to you in school. But it still didn’t have any kind of meaning for me.
I remember the RE teacher I had for GCSE. The one thing that stands out about her lessons is that she acnowledged that not all of us were church-goers. I remember we had to know stuff about the differences between different denominations in things like adult or child baptism, frequency of communion, and structure of churxch services. She would tell us non-church-goers what her church did. She didn't assume we all went to church.
For my 16th birthday, some friends convinced me to go with them to a local Christian place, called Exodus. I suppose the best way to describe it would be a Christian “night-club”. They run on Saturday nights and have bands and DJs and a non-alcoholic bar. Also, a couple of my close friends volunteered there on Saturday nights.
At that time they had a soapbox every night as well. This might be someone giving their testimony, or talking about something God had done in their life. These really started to touch me, although now I can't remember what they said. I was struck by these intelligent people, who had clearly had something happen in their lives that was different to what I'd experienced up to that point.
Exodus also sends out mission teams in the summertime. A few friends had been on the teams and had invited me to events the teams had organised. These reinforced some of the thoughts that were going through my head.
I remember one day getting an e-mail from a close friend. In it, she said that if I had any questions about Christianity that I shouldn’t hesitate to ask her. So I chatted with her about a few things. Then a few days later, as I passed another friend in the corridor in school, she handed me a note. In it, she said she’d got the impression that I was thinking about Christianity, and that she was there if I wanted to chat about anything. Apparently neither of my friends had told the other about what they’d said to me.
These two friends, as well as a few others that I'd spoken to, were a great support to me in my decision to become a Christian. They listened to daft questions I had, and tried to give me the best answers they could. I was later told that they had been praying for me for some time.
On the 1st January 2000, I was invited to a praise event that Exodus were holding. Out of curiosity, I went along. During one song, one of the musicians suggested that people close their eyes. I can’t remember why he said it, or why I did, but when I did, something weird happened.
You know when you close your eyes there’s generally not much to see? It’s generally all dark. Well, when I closed my eyes here, it was all bright white. There was a man standing in front of me. He was dressed in bright white clothes and he was holding his arms out towards me. Thought I couldn’t see his face clearly, I knew who it was – Jesus. I then saw myself walk towards him and he put his arms round me. I have no idea what went on around me at the time, or how long this vision took. I wasn’t scared at all.
A month later, on 1st February 2000, I eventually became a Christian. My friends were ecstatic. It had taken me a while up to get over doubts I had about "is it really real?" and "what if it's wrong?" But siomehow, I just knew that I had to make that choice at that time.
For my birthday a few days later three friends grouped together and got me an NCV Youth Bible. This has been a great help over the years. It's looking quite battered from having been carried across Europe three times.
It took me two years to get into a church. I was always a bit nervous about what my parents would think and say. Eventually, a friend wanted me to go with her to an evening service her boyfriend’s church were starting. He was in the band and she didn’t want to go and sit by herself.
So I started going to the evening services and, when they decided to stop doing them, I decided to start going to the morning services, and went to a housegroup. I’m still in the church, and enjoying it greatly. I’m still going to a housegroup, and I’ve been doing the PowerPoint for the worship for over a year and a half now. (My church is the Causeway Coast Vineyard or look here for other Vineyard Churches.)
Looking back over the past five years, I can see how my life has been affected. I got into uni, to the course I wanted, despite not getting the right grades. I also got a job really, really easily after I left uni.
I’m still involved with Exodus. I’ve been volunteering there on Saturday nights for nearly 4 and a half years, and have been given a bit more responsibility than other volunteers, which is scary. I’m also doing a team to help gain leadership skills. I’ve learnt a bit about audio-visuals, which I use for the special needs events in Exodus too.
I’m not going to pretend it’s been easy. I’ve had to deal with my family’s hostility, as well as seeing several friends fall away from their faith. I find that really sad. I remember when I first became I Christian, people would remark on how hard it must be with non-Christian parents. At the time, I didn't really get what they meant, but now I do.
But one thing I do find really helpful is to keep reminding myself that god is in control. We even have a song we often sing in church that says so (You Are In Control). One picture he gave me was of a vase. It had been smashed and stuck together again. But whatever had been used to stick it back together wasn’t very good, and so it was falling apart again. The pieces of the vase are the pieces of our lives and the glue that holds them together is God. But we often think we can glue them together better and that’s why it falls apart again.
I’ll keep this updated as things happen with me.
