To get where I am today, I had a long road to go down. I am breaking my testimony up into several parts because of how long that road is. I will start with some background information. If you have any questions or comments, please fell free to ask/make them.
I was born on May 14, 1974. My mother married my dad after one failed marriage, her and her first husband had a son. With my dad, my mom had my older sister and then myself. When I was 3 my parents got a divorce. My dad got custody of my sister, mom got custody of me. Mom & dad were suppose to make sure my sister and I saw each other every weekend, but I don’t remember if that happened or not. Dad would come and get me every other weekend and a few weeks in the summer, when mom would let him. My dad was an alcoholic ever since I can remember. Alcoholism eventually took his life which is a big part of me finding my way back to God. I will go into this more "in depth" later.
My dad remarried another woman shortly after the divorce with my mom (from what I gather), and mom moved to a different town. Dad adopted his new wife’s daughter and eventually had my younger sister "C" years later. When I was 5 years old I got to live with my dad while I attended kindergarten. When school was over, mom came to get me and then not very long after she got married to a man I’ll call "DC".
We were attending Rosebower Baptist on a regular basis, back when the fellowship hall was in the sanctuary and the Sunday school building had the fellowship hall in it. I loved going to church, everybody knew each other and was friends. I remember going to "MB’s" house after church to eat lunch, and I remember going to the Pastor's house on several occasions. We were really involved with church, and I would help invite kids to church on the weekends with "DC" and mom, and even the Pastor and his wife and kids. The Pastor’s wife was my Sunday school teacher, and their daughter "A" was in the class too.
Our Pastor (Bro. P) was like the jolly green giant to me, I wasn’t scared of him really, I was just intimidated by his size. He is a very tall man. He is still tall to me now that I am grown. Anyway, back to the story. I was a very shy little girl. I remember one Sunday morning when I was 8 years old, Bro. P was preaching a real good sermon. I was starting to feel weird and didn’t know why. Then we started singing the invitation and God was really working on me. I wanted to go forward so I asked my mom to go with me. She told me that she couldn’t go with me, that this was something I had to do on my own. I then decided that I wouldn’t go if I had to go alone, so I stayed where I was.
After church, mom explained to me that when I was ready to be saved, I would walk to Bro. P on my own. That this was between me and God and if I was ready, not even shyness could stop me. All I thought was that I wouldn’t go by myself so I wasn’t worried about it any more.
At the evening service, Bro. P was once again preaching a good sermon. Once again I could feel that God was working on me. I tried real hard to ignore him. During the invitation that feeling was so strong that I couldn’t ignore it anymore, so I let go of my song book, and slowly walked toward Bro. P. He seemed to get taller and taller the closer I got. What seemed to be the longest walk in my life was almost over, and I didn’t know what to expect, I was a little scared. To my surprise, Bro. P got down on one knee to greet me. I told him I wanted to be saved. We talked a minute and then he took me in a room just off the sanctuary where I talked to several people, Bro. P, his wife, and the song minister Bro. B. After a little while, I prayed and invited Jesus in to my heart and then Bro. P announced it to the church and everyone shook my hand.
I think it was a couple of Sundays later that I got baptized. I still remember that day like it was yesterday. I was so excited. I remember I really liked Bro. P after I got saved, I wasn’t scared of how tall he was anymore. He was my new friend. I thought it was the neatest thing when he said “I baptize you my sister”.
A few weeks later I woke up for school not feeling very well. Mom said my neck was swollen and thought I had the mumps. She didn’t want me to go to school, but I had never missed a day and I wasn’t about to start because I was sick. Once I was at school I started to feel worse and then I vomited all over my class floor. Needless to say, mom had to come and get me.
I went to the doctor for tests and then back home. Mom told me I was really sick. The next thing I knew the doctor was calling and telling mom that I had to be hospitalized. I was so scared. Mom told me that if we would hold hands and pray, that God would answer our prayer. So we did, and we prayed that God would heal me and that I would be ok and wouldn’t be scared anymore.
Mom left to go get me some things for the hospital. "DC" (my step-dad) told me he heard that I was really scared, I told him that I was scared, but that mom and I had prayed and I knew that God was going to take care of me. I had alot of faith in God for an eight year old child. I went to the hospital and the moment I walked in I was vomiting again. See what had happened was that I had strep throat a few weeks earlier but mom didn’t know it, she just thought my throat was a little red. That strep infection went to the tubes of my kidneys and was causing my kidneys to fail. It is called Post-streptococcal glomerulonephritis.
Shortly after arriving at the hospital, I went into a semi-coma. Luckily for me I had a doctor who trusted God. He waited everyday to keep me off dialysis. After being in a semi-coma for about a week, I woke up. I remember Bro. P and Bro. B coming to visit me. My class had made me a Halloween poster and one day it fell on Bro P’s head, I thought that was so funny. I got better everyday and a week later I got to go home with a restricted diet. No salt, no soft drinks, and lots of cranberry juice.
I don’t know exactly how much time went by, but Mom and "DC" split up and we lived on Sharpe School Road in a mobile home owned by one of the men at church. We kept going to church. Then more time went by and we moved and I don’t remember going to church anymore. I know I was in 5th or 6th grade. I don’t really know why we stopped going to church. I guarantee you that my mom regrets that decision now.
I didn’t really have time to grow in Christ before we stopped going to church. I was still a babe, that’s for sure. We still prayed and read our Bibles, but it wasn’t the same. You just can’t live the Christian life outside of church, it isn’t possible. I know a lot of things in my life would be very different if we had stayed in church. I guess you live and you learn.
I will pick up from here next time.
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