Maybe I was inspired by everyone's effort to write about their testimonies this Easter, or maybe I have just been hiding from God's calling to do this since last month. Nonetheless, it's about time for me to retell my story with the almighty and fatherly God.
If you were at my Baptism two years ago, you might have heard of my testimony. The story I'm going to write is a little different (actually a lot different) from the one you have heard before. It's about how I failed to be the Christian I wanted to become two years ago, and yet God has allowed me to accept a road of change.
So for those of you who haven't heard of my testimony before, here's a brief summary.
I grew up in an atheist family in China where work ethics and earning your worth was deeply stressed. Yet, my family failed greatly. My parents divorced because my mom was having affairs for years. She was seen as an object of shame, thrown away, and never brought up again. My dad soon remarried and moved us to the States all in less than a year. My stepmother was 23 then, too young to be a mother. All her immaturity and discomfort came upon me all through my early teens, and I fell into depression until a point where I wanted to die. But God didn't let me (or perhaps I was too scared of the life after death, or the lack thereof). Freshman year in high school, people kept on approaching me about church, this strange place where people cried about this invisible being. Yet, when I allowed this invisible being to enter my life, everything changed. He embraced me when I locked myself in bathrooms. He cried with me when I just couldn't stand being bitter anymore. And He answered my prayers. My stepmother became a loving friend, and my father became an understanding daddy, and my brother was always always the angel (until he turned 3...==).
Yet, that perfect road to heaven didn't last very long, even after my Baptism freshman year at Penn.
Out of all the sisters in my class at the church I attend at Penn, I was perhaps the most experienced with dating relationships, and this became my biggest struggle over the past three years. My first relationship was disastrous, to say the least. My ex and I were both hiding pains and inflicting pains (physical, emotional, and spiritual) upon each other, and we walked opposing roads. He was against God. Not that he was an atheist, but that he was someone who hated God.
My second relationship didn't last very long, but it was a relationship where I felt greatly ashamed of my indecisiveness and my confusions. I didn't know what I wanted, and I certainly didn't know why I was in a relationship when God clearly told me to rely only on Him. I was an emotionally needy girl, as much as I might look tough on the outside. Yet, this had made me shameful to this day.
My current relationship was once the object of my obsession, the object of my deep longing, the object of my pride, and the object that replaced Jesus's love. Yet, like any other object in the world that took me away from God, it failed me. I had a great boyfriend and we had great aspirations, yet it was so tough to uphold a Godly relationship while hiding it from the rest of the world. As much as we tried by ourselves to pray for each other, to read the Bible together, to bless each other with our actions, we ended up failing each other's aspirations physically, emotionally, and spiritually. There was no accountability. There were misunderstandings. There were rooms of secrets. There were small and big sins. There were shame, guilt, irresponsibilities, lack of identity, bitterness, fear, and loneliness.
Someone once told me that the consequences of sins are not just the physical sufferings you have to endure afterwards, but also the emotional abandonment and shame that pulls you away from God. For me, this was the most painful part. I was pulled by my own sins and my own feeling of shame to a point where I felt so worthless and so dirty to accept the holy love of Jesus Christ. As much as I wanted to accept His outpouring of grace and His continuous stream of love, I didn't think I could be healed, I didn't think anyone around me understood. When I see the sisters and brothers in church whom I've always considered "holier" than me, my pain of separation grew.
Funny enough, in the midst of it all, God called me continuously to speak out and to surrender, and I finally did. Right now, perhaps only a few have heard of the entirety of my struggles this year, but it is just the beginning of the healing process. Someone prayed for me and said that cleansing and healing are sometimes like fire burning. It's going to be painful, it's going to take a long time, and it's probably not going to be pretty for a while. Yet, in the end, there will always be restoration, renewal, and life.
Thank you for those who have been here for me this entire year, whether you are a believer or not. I consider your presences as gifts from the loving Father, always encouraging me to move forward.
