Christian Sweetie
Feb 20th 2009, 10:37 PM
Hello everybody! I figure it's time for my testimony! Hopefully you get to know me better and I inspire some people along the way! Beware: It's long.
I was raised in what I like to call an Anti-Christian family. Not anti-religious, not atheist, not agnostic, anti-Christian. So you can imagine just how far away I was from God.
Obviously, my knowledge about Jesus Christ was limited. I knew next to nothing about Him and really didn't bother. My childhood was focused on playing with friends, getting dirty in the mud, and devouring the next children's book I received for my birthday and Christmas. Like most secular families, my Christmas was viewed as nothing more than getting stuff. Sure, teachers at my school told me how it was a time to spend with family but those were just words to me. I just wanted stuff and food and family came last.
At an early age, I was taught that Christians were, by nature, awful people. They were the one's who saw evil in everything, even something as innocent as Teletubbies. They were the ones who snipe-rifled people who performed abortions. As a child, this view was not held with the irrational hatred like my parents, but it was ingrained in my mind all the same. I can clearly remember telling my Christian friend that "God isn't real. The Devil isn't real," as calmly as you please. She ran home crying. I was four years old at that time. I apologized to her after, without really meaning it.
During my school years I attended a public school. Again, access to God was never mentioned. I had hardly any Christian friends, and the one's I did never talked about Jesus. Somehow, I learned about Him, but in a degrading manner. I can remember going up to a teacher and questioning the validity of the Virgin Birth, much to the delight of my friends. "How can someone have a baby who's a virgin? You can't! Well teacher? How can you?" She gazed at me horrified. "I...I...don't know..." she stammered. Triumphant, I felt a surge of power, thanks to Satan. He planted a seed of manipulation within me. Manipulate the Christians. Make them swear, make them hate, make them more like you. And I made sure I did.
All the while, Satan slowly turned me towards the no consequence kind of thinking. I dreamed of having a boyfriend at the young age of 10. I wanted to dress provocatively for all the boys when I was 11. I regarded drunkenness as cool, and soon made plans to have sex by the time I was 17. "If I'm still a virgin by Grade 12," I declared, "I'll go to a party, get smashed, and sleep with the first guy that has me. I don't care." Even my secular friends were disgusted. "But Elizabeth, shouldn't you wait?" they pleaded. I sneered at their old-fashioned views. I wanted sex, and I wanted it ASAP.
And I was sadistic. I reveled in people's pain and problems. The Lord has given me a gift, where people want to tell me their problems and receive my good advice. Whenever they did, I'd enjoy that they were in pain. I took delight in it. In fact, I prayed for people to have burdens placed upon them and was overjoyed when they were. I thought it was God being a sadist with me. It was Satan who was blinding me. I was a sick, sick person, headed straight over a cliff at 100 miles per hour. And I was completely happy about it.
I soon came to regard Christians as pure idiots. After all, who believes in God? Idiots that's who. I came to hate them, and my hate was fuelled by my parents and the school system. I never hated God, but I hated His people. They were the source of ALL the problems in the world. Yet, funny enough, I had no logic or facts to sustain this. I would rant and rave about the Christians to my friends, who fell silent. They hated the Christians too, but not on the same level I did. I was blinded by rage that carried with me until my last year in elementary school.
Before that, however, I had had one encounter with God. It was in Grade 6, and my dog died. It was the first death to ever affect me. Sure, relatives millions of miles away died, but I wasn't close with them. But my dog was my best friend and I was devastated. On a whim, I prayed to God. And He wowed me. It was a stormy night that night yet somehow, there was no rain or thunder. Just lightning. I turned to my window and through my tears I uttered my first words to the Father. "Are you real God?"
Immediately, two lightning bolts flashed. I raised my eyebrow in amazement and tried again. "If that's you, then do more flashes. One for yes, two for no."
Once again, a bolt lit up the sky. I was floored. Eagerly, I started conversing with God. He returned my answers rapidly, using the one-or-two answer system. It's interesting to note that the thunder that usually follows lightning never sounded. It was just lightning in the middle of a huge storm. I later came to realize that God was so quick to answer because if He was anything less, I would turn away and sink deeper into hatred. God knows how impatient and skeptical I am! From then on I was somewhat of a theist. I believed in God, but just barely. The Christian God was still foolish and the Christians still needed to be stopped but I knew there was something out there...but what?
In the summer before high school, something happened. I don't know why, or how, or when, but I got it into my head that I needed to find a religion. I speculate that it was because I didn't want to end up in Hell, but my memory is fuzzy; it happened so fast. Christ quietly slipped in and planted this desire in my head. I should have been horrified with myself. Instead I was consumed with this quest. This desire seemed to go hand-in-hand with my newfound politics obsession (I had become a Conservative). Actions had consequences and this free for all lifestyle was bad, bad, bad.
So I searched them all. Islam, Wicca, Judaism, Buddhism, you name it, I probably thought of it. I was leaning towards Wicca but something kept stopping me. In libraries, my hand would fall towards a Wiccan book and stop. A calm, patient voice, a voice I know now as Christ, persuaded me out of it. I would pass by the book, confused, but knowing I was doing the right thing. My thoughts would sometimes turn to Christianity but Satan stomped on the idea. "Christians are bad, remember?" he would slickly say. Of course, and I would go on learning about Wiccans.
Occasionally I prayed and I was amazed when they were almost always answered, in such a quick time frame too. I'm ashamed to say, I'd only pray to get stuff, never to talk with God. Because I was selfish and arrogant, and it was me that mattered not Him. He was lucky to get my prayers.
Something strange would always occur though, that confounded me. I would cry while I prayed. Not just sniffles, tears running down my cheeks constantly. I had no idea why but I later came to realize, my blackened soul had never been so touched by something as Pure and lovely as Christ. As soon as I would start praying, my lip would tremble, my eyes would well up, and I'd silently cry. I was both happy and devastated at the same time. Happy because I was feeling so pure. Devastated because I knew, eventually, deep down, I couldn't be this "fake" Christian for very much longer. Sin was so good; I didn't want to give it up in a hurry. Especially masturbation, sadism, and homosexuality.
By the end of the summer, I could no longer deny it. Christ. Christ. Christ. He was everywhere. I'd come across Christian websites, see Christian books right in front of my eyes everywhere I turned, Christian television, God especially used my insomnia to get me closer to Him. At 2 in the morning, when nothing else was on, I'd settle on the Christian T.V. station. And always, the topic the people were discussing was a question I had been thinking about recently. I was amazed. Was this God's work? I concluded it must be. Christ certainly knew how to win over a skeptic like myself.
I entered Grade 9 as I like to call, a Christian in name only. I believed in Jesus and God and I prayed and I desired to learn more. Yet I did not love Him, I did not fear Him, I did not accept him as my Saviour, the Redeemer of my sins. I only acknowledged His existence. It was a start though. However I was scared to share this newfound religion with my friends and family, who were so used to me going on tirades against the very same people I was now joining up with. For many months I simply stopped talking about Christians, wondering how I would go about revealing this to them. On a whim, I decided to put on my Myspace page that my hero was Jesus Christ. Anxiously I waited for the firestorm. And it came.
My Atheist friends were furious. "How can you be a Christian when all you do is tear them down?" they'd yell at me. "You hypocrite!" I got the third degree from them. It filled me with righteous indignation and I said, "I never liked how they shoved their beliefs down my throat and I have NEVER EVER done that to you." That shut them up. "Besides," I sniffed, "I can do what I want. I'm still the same person."
God had different plans however. I was not going to be the same person that I was when I was 14, not on His watch. First on the agenda, a true acceptance of Christ.
I can remember it so clearly. It was the second time in my life I ever felt what I can only describe as true, unadulterated Peace. It was a little after 2:30 in the morning. I was of course, having trouble sleeping and was tuning into my favourite show on the Christian network, Nite Life Live. I don't remember the topic however. I was listening eagerly to the people calling in; I so loved to hear the stories. Sometimes I would pray with the person running the show. It made me feel good, like I was really helping someone.
The caller was a male this time. His voice was deep and rough. I was instantly attracted to it. Something made me want to listen. It was time.
"I just need help," he pleaded, sounding so awfully broken for such a tough voice. "Please, I don't know where else to turn." I was fixated to the television. Help? Boy he sounded an awful lot like how I felt. Broken. Disgusting. Filth (It was at these wee hours, when I really was becoming closer to God, when I would really realize just how bad I was). The preacher was unfazed and empathetic. "I know you do. Christ can and WILL help you," he said, so assured. "Would you like me to pray for you?" he asked. "Oh yes. Yes please," the man on the phone whispered. I closed my eyes. I wanted to help him.
"Repeat after me," the preacher instructed. I nodded without really realizing it. "Father God..."
"Father God," I said quietly.
"I give myself up to you, totally, completely, and without any strings. I need You. I need Your constant, unchanging love. I need You in my life. I need Your guidance. Lord I am Yours, forever and ever."
"Jesus," I said, talking to my soon to be best friend directly. "I give up my blackened, broken, and wretched soul up to You forever and ever." Suddenly, a sob escaped my lips and I was crying. Who was I kidding? I was a mess, no matter what Satan tried to trick me into thinking. Jesus wouldn't want me. I was useless and evil.
But the wonderful thing about Jesus is that He DID want me. Quickly, a peace descended upon me, sparking in the pit of my stomach and spreading throughout my veins to the rest of my body. I had only felt it once before, when I got into a terrible ATV accident that could have killed me had it not been for God. God had comforted me that day, wiped away all my tears. I had always wanted to feel it again and now, here it was. It was like Jesus was hugging me. It felt wonderful, and I knew I was accepted and loved.
It's been a long and difficult journey. Even after that night, it took me awhile to truly love Christ and regard Him as my best friend. I am no longer a sadist. When people have difficulties, I pray FOR them, not AGAINST them. I have beaten my masturbation addiction. As for liking other girls? The thought of that repulses me now and I am officially straight. God has helped me through it all. I am nothing without Him.
All my life, I wanted a real best friend. Sure I've had some, but they always let me down, betrayed me, and left me kicked to the side of the road. Only Christ has remained faithful, like He always will. I love my true best friend, and I finally have someone who will NEVER betray me. It's rather nice.
I was raised in what I like to call an Anti-Christian family. Not anti-religious, not atheist, not agnostic, anti-Christian. So you can imagine just how far away I was from God.
Obviously, my knowledge about Jesus Christ was limited. I knew next to nothing about Him and really didn't bother. My childhood was focused on playing with friends, getting dirty in the mud, and devouring the next children's book I received for my birthday and Christmas. Like most secular families, my Christmas was viewed as nothing more than getting stuff. Sure, teachers at my school told me how it was a time to spend with family but those were just words to me. I just wanted stuff and food and family came last.
At an early age, I was taught that Christians were, by nature, awful people. They were the one's who saw evil in everything, even something as innocent as Teletubbies. They were the ones who snipe-rifled people who performed abortions. As a child, this view was not held with the irrational hatred like my parents, but it was ingrained in my mind all the same. I can clearly remember telling my Christian friend that "God isn't real. The Devil isn't real," as calmly as you please. She ran home crying. I was four years old at that time. I apologized to her after, without really meaning it.
During my school years I attended a public school. Again, access to God was never mentioned. I had hardly any Christian friends, and the one's I did never talked about Jesus. Somehow, I learned about Him, but in a degrading manner. I can remember going up to a teacher and questioning the validity of the Virgin Birth, much to the delight of my friends. "How can someone have a baby who's a virgin? You can't! Well teacher? How can you?" She gazed at me horrified. "I...I...don't know..." she stammered. Triumphant, I felt a surge of power, thanks to Satan. He planted a seed of manipulation within me. Manipulate the Christians. Make them swear, make them hate, make them more like you. And I made sure I did.
All the while, Satan slowly turned me towards the no consequence kind of thinking. I dreamed of having a boyfriend at the young age of 10. I wanted to dress provocatively for all the boys when I was 11. I regarded drunkenness as cool, and soon made plans to have sex by the time I was 17. "If I'm still a virgin by Grade 12," I declared, "I'll go to a party, get smashed, and sleep with the first guy that has me. I don't care." Even my secular friends were disgusted. "But Elizabeth, shouldn't you wait?" they pleaded. I sneered at their old-fashioned views. I wanted sex, and I wanted it ASAP.
And I was sadistic. I reveled in people's pain and problems. The Lord has given me a gift, where people want to tell me their problems and receive my good advice. Whenever they did, I'd enjoy that they were in pain. I took delight in it. In fact, I prayed for people to have burdens placed upon them and was overjoyed when they were. I thought it was God being a sadist with me. It was Satan who was blinding me. I was a sick, sick person, headed straight over a cliff at 100 miles per hour. And I was completely happy about it.
I soon came to regard Christians as pure idiots. After all, who believes in God? Idiots that's who. I came to hate them, and my hate was fuelled by my parents and the school system. I never hated God, but I hated His people. They were the source of ALL the problems in the world. Yet, funny enough, I had no logic or facts to sustain this. I would rant and rave about the Christians to my friends, who fell silent. They hated the Christians too, but not on the same level I did. I was blinded by rage that carried with me until my last year in elementary school.
Before that, however, I had had one encounter with God. It was in Grade 6, and my dog died. It was the first death to ever affect me. Sure, relatives millions of miles away died, but I wasn't close with them. But my dog was my best friend and I was devastated. On a whim, I prayed to God. And He wowed me. It was a stormy night that night yet somehow, there was no rain or thunder. Just lightning. I turned to my window and through my tears I uttered my first words to the Father. "Are you real God?"
Immediately, two lightning bolts flashed. I raised my eyebrow in amazement and tried again. "If that's you, then do more flashes. One for yes, two for no."
Once again, a bolt lit up the sky. I was floored. Eagerly, I started conversing with God. He returned my answers rapidly, using the one-or-two answer system. It's interesting to note that the thunder that usually follows lightning never sounded. It was just lightning in the middle of a huge storm. I later came to realize that God was so quick to answer because if He was anything less, I would turn away and sink deeper into hatred. God knows how impatient and skeptical I am! From then on I was somewhat of a theist. I believed in God, but just barely. The Christian God was still foolish and the Christians still needed to be stopped but I knew there was something out there...but what?
In the summer before high school, something happened. I don't know why, or how, or when, but I got it into my head that I needed to find a religion. I speculate that it was because I didn't want to end up in Hell, but my memory is fuzzy; it happened so fast. Christ quietly slipped in and planted this desire in my head. I should have been horrified with myself. Instead I was consumed with this quest. This desire seemed to go hand-in-hand with my newfound politics obsession (I had become a Conservative). Actions had consequences and this free for all lifestyle was bad, bad, bad.
So I searched them all. Islam, Wicca, Judaism, Buddhism, you name it, I probably thought of it. I was leaning towards Wicca but something kept stopping me. In libraries, my hand would fall towards a Wiccan book and stop. A calm, patient voice, a voice I know now as Christ, persuaded me out of it. I would pass by the book, confused, but knowing I was doing the right thing. My thoughts would sometimes turn to Christianity but Satan stomped on the idea. "Christians are bad, remember?" he would slickly say. Of course, and I would go on learning about Wiccans.
Occasionally I prayed and I was amazed when they were almost always answered, in such a quick time frame too. I'm ashamed to say, I'd only pray to get stuff, never to talk with God. Because I was selfish and arrogant, and it was me that mattered not Him. He was lucky to get my prayers.
Something strange would always occur though, that confounded me. I would cry while I prayed. Not just sniffles, tears running down my cheeks constantly. I had no idea why but I later came to realize, my blackened soul had never been so touched by something as Pure and lovely as Christ. As soon as I would start praying, my lip would tremble, my eyes would well up, and I'd silently cry. I was both happy and devastated at the same time. Happy because I was feeling so pure. Devastated because I knew, eventually, deep down, I couldn't be this "fake" Christian for very much longer. Sin was so good; I didn't want to give it up in a hurry. Especially masturbation, sadism, and homosexuality.
By the end of the summer, I could no longer deny it. Christ. Christ. Christ. He was everywhere. I'd come across Christian websites, see Christian books right in front of my eyes everywhere I turned, Christian television, God especially used my insomnia to get me closer to Him. At 2 in the morning, when nothing else was on, I'd settle on the Christian T.V. station. And always, the topic the people were discussing was a question I had been thinking about recently. I was amazed. Was this God's work? I concluded it must be. Christ certainly knew how to win over a skeptic like myself.
I entered Grade 9 as I like to call, a Christian in name only. I believed in Jesus and God and I prayed and I desired to learn more. Yet I did not love Him, I did not fear Him, I did not accept him as my Saviour, the Redeemer of my sins. I only acknowledged His existence. It was a start though. However I was scared to share this newfound religion with my friends and family, who were so used to me going on tirades against the very same people I was now joining up with. For many months I simply stopped talking about Christians, wondering how I would go about revealing this to them. On a whim, I decided to put on my Myspace page that my hero was Jesus Christ. Anxiously I waited for the firestorm. And it came.
My Atheist friends were furious. "How can you be a Christian when all you do is tear them down?" they'd yell at me. "You hypocrite!" I got the third degree from them. It filled me with righteous indignation and I said, "I never liked how they shoved their beliefs down my throat and I have NEVER EVER done that to you." That shut them up. "Besides," I sniffed, "I can do what I want. I'm still the same person."
God had different plans however. I was not going to be the same person that I was when I was 14, not on His watch. First on the agenda, a true acceptance of Christ.
I can remember it so clearly. It was the second time in my life I ever felt what I can only describe as true, unadulterated Peace. It was a little after 2:30 in the morning. I was of course, having trouble sleeping and was tuning into my favourite show on the Christian network, Nite Life Live. I don't remember the topic however. I was listening eagerly to the people calling in; I so loved to hear the stories. Sometimes I would pray with the person running the show. It made me feel good, like I was really helping someone.
The caller was a male this time. His voice was deep and rough. I was instantly attracted to it. Something made me want to listen. It was time.
"I just need help," he pleaded, sounding so awfully broken for such a tough voice. "Please, I don't know where else to turn." I was fixated to the television. Help? Boy he sounded an awful lot like how I felt. Broken. Disgusting. Filth (It was at these wee hours, when I really was becoming closer to God, when I would really realize just how bad I was). The preacher was unfazed and empathetic. "I know you do. Christ can and WILL help you," he said, so assured. "Would you like me to pray for you?" he asked. "Oh yes. Yes please," the man on the phone whispered. I closed my eyes. I wanted to help him.
"Repeat after me," the preacher instructed. I nodded without really realizing it. "Father God..."
"Father God," I said quietly.
"I give myself up to you, totally, completely, and without any strings. I need You. I need Your constant, unchanging love. I need You in my life. I need Your guidance. Lord I am Yours, forever and ever."
"Jesus," I said, talking to my soon to be best friend directly. "I give up my blackened, broken, and wretched soul up to You forever and ever." Suddenly, a sob escaped my lips and I was crying. Who was I kidding? I was a mess, no matter what Satan tried to trick me into thinking. Jesus wouldn't want me. I was useless and evil.
But the wonderful thing about Jesus is that He DID want me. Quickly, a peace descended upon me, sparking in the pit of my stomach and spreading throughout my veins to the rest of my body. I had only felt it once before, when I got into a terrible ATV accident that could have killed me had it not been for God. God had comforted me that day, wiped away all my tears. I had always wanted to feel it again and now, here it was. It was like Jesus was hugging me. It felt wonderful, and I knew I was accepted and loved.
It's been a long and difficult journey. Even after that night, it took me awhile to truly love Christ and regard Him as my best friend. I am no longer a sadist. When people have difficulties, I pray FOR them, not AGAINST them. I have beaten my masturbation addiction. As for liking other girls? The thought of that repulses me now and I am officially straight. God has helped me through it all. I am nothing without Him.
All my life, I wanted a real best friend. Sure I've had some, but they always let me down, betrayed me, and left me kicked to the side of the road. Only Christ has remained faithful, like He always will. I love my true best friend, and I finally have someone who will NEVER betray me. It's rather nice.