Why I Chose Jesus

Hey there! Thanks for checking out my blog. I hope you enjoy reading it as much I enjoyed writing this.

I am a believer and follower of Jesus. I chose Him as my Lord and Saviour over 15 years ago. As you can tell, this post is a testimony of how I became a believer. I hope this encourages you.

This all started when I hit puberty. I didn’t hit the clubs, do drugs or hung out with the “wrong” crowd. I was a church kid born to a fiery and faithful believer, my mother. Unlike her, I hated church.

It’s not like I ever really liked going to church, but by the time I became a teenager I hated going to church. I hated it so much that I even hated Sundays. Yes. The whole day.

You see, I was very angry and resentful. I had questions that I couldn’t ask and the ones I could ask, no one could answer. I was burdened with a responsibility that I never asked for, it was just given to me. Everyday I woke up feeling like the weight of everyone’s happiness was on my shoulders and I failed every single day.

Looking back on it, I know it wasn’t true but back then…

So around the age of 15, I started counting down the days. If I could just get to the age of 18 then I would be legally able to move out and ultimately stop going to church. It’s not like I was praying anyways so…

The anger continued to build. Before, I continue let me give you some insight into my world.

During my early teenage years, my home life became extremely unstable. I had my first panic attack at the age of 13 after witnessing an assault. I wanted to feel safe but instead I was made to feel utterly stupid for not being able to compose myself.

I struggled silently with my insecurities. I was never enough for my environment. Whatever was required of me never seemed to be satisfied.

We never stayed in one place for too long.

I didn’t have a father.

It’s crazy but I never felt like I was taken cared of and yet always required to take care of.

Emotionally I was a wreck. I needed help and help wasn’t coming. I’d cry myself to sleep praying, begging and pleading for a better way of life. I was stuck in a toxic place, alone to fend for myself.

Suddenly, during one of my forced church trips I would begin to cry during the worship portion. It was weird. My mom says it was God calling. Until this day, I cannot confirm this. All I know is that they would sing and I would cry. I hated it. I couldn’t control it and the tears wouldn’t stop coming.

So I cried.

I began to pray asking God to prove His realness. If He was real, things would change. My life would change. And it did….

Eventually, our home life got stable again. Things began to change. We found a church that I liked. I began to fit in. I got answers to my questions, without being treated like a child and it felt good. I felt like a human. I didn’t feel crazy. I had friends, finally.

You see crazy happened to me. I didn’t have a deep spiritual encounter take place. There was no metaphysical transformation. Just a girl who slowly got to the realization that I chose Jesus not because I had to. Simply because He chose me.

I had questions. I wanted better. God showed me that He could make it better and He did.

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