From Orphan to Heiress: How God Saved Me

I was raised in church...

I suppose I've been going to church since I was just a little zygote in my mom's tummy. Throughout my early years, she faithfully raised my sister and I in the fear and admonition of the Lord. We were taught to trust the Bible, believe in the goodness of God, pray, and sing songs of praise and thanksgiving. And I loved it; I embraced all of these practices with joy. Loving God seemed so simple then. As I got a little older, I became more and more aware of the necessity of putting my faith in Jesus as my Lord and Savior via Youth Group functions and such. That also seemed quite simple.

At the time, I felt comfortable saying "Yes" to all the "Do you believe..." questions. Yes, I believed that God is real, that he's a Trinity of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Yes, I believed that Jesus was the only way to Heaven and to avoid Hell. Yes, I believed the Bible was true and trust-worthy. Yes, I wanted to have Jesus in my life. I believed all these things because it's what my mom faithfully taught me from the beginning of my life, as well as other Kingdom servants in church. There was never a question for me if any of the above statements about Christianity were true. 

The tricky thing about believing is that believing isn't enough. Oh, yes, it's true! Look at this: "You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe -- and shudder!" (James 2:19, ESV) That's right, sister... Satan and his demons aren't stupid. They believe the truth about God more than many "basically good" people do; the Father of Lies has to know the truth in order to lie. Belief is not enough.

So which side of that fateful line did my belief fall on: effective faith that saves, or mere recognition of the facts without true faith? 

Unfortunately, it was the latter. You see, the one thing I did not believe was that I was a sinner. And so I went on through my church-going years, through Elementary school and Youth Group, participating in Bible lessons and corporate worship, memorizing Scripture and learning the rules of Christian living. And in all of that -- all of that exposure and nearness to the truth of Jesus -- I never understood why I needed him in the picture of my moral life. 

I grew self-righteous and proud, full of contempt for the un-churched and immoral, confident that my ways and wisdom were perfect. And somewhere along the way, I realized that I was smarter than God. 


So, I put God to the test...

By the time I was 15, I had a few friends who claimed a homosexual identity and/or didn't believe in God. And I loved them! But I also knew that the Bible named homosexuals among the various idolators that will not inherit the Kingdom of God and that not believing in God is an awfully dismal start to receiving pardon from Hell. (See 1 Corinthians 6:9-10.) But, I observed that these supposedly damned friends were basically good people, perhaps even better. How could God send such as these to Hell? And, for that matter, who made God the boss? Who says that Christianity is the only legitimate religious truth?

And so I set out on a mission to discover some answers to those vitally important questions. Settling the legitimacy of Christianity would definitely be the silver-bullet answer to clear up any further confusion. First, I needed to know what evidence is there that the Christian faith is more true than other faiths, such as Hinduism or Islam? In church they were always saying "faith saves" and "faith is all you need" and the like. Apparently "faith" is the most important ingredient in the effectiveness of Christianity. But, don't Muslims have faith? Don't Hindus? And, in many cases, is their faith not equally if not more resolute than that of Christians? So, if all you need is a strong "faith," it appears that every other religion has what it takes!  

I say this now in hindsight: What I did not understand was that it is not the strength of your faith but the object of your faith that determines the effectiveness of your faith. If I put every fiber of my faith in a rock, my faith will not be effective for more than making me a fool because a rock is a lousy object for my faith. But if I put a even a tiny bit of faith in Jesus, my faith will work well beyond my expectations because Jesus is a powerful object for my faith. Faith does not save anyone. Jesus does. 

"[...] For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you." (Matthew 17:20, ESV)

Back to me as a 15 year old... having concluded that every religion had the necessary components of a legitimate claim to a truth monopoly, I set about to determine if perhaps the Bible was reliable. And I tested it against only the most reliable of straight-edges: human science and personal experience. (I'm being sarcastic.) Well, science clearly does not support animals having an arbitrary instinct to come in orderly pairs and enter a boat (referencing the Flood in Genesis), nor does it support a virgin birth (referencing Mary's conception of Jesus). I mean, a virgin birth is pretty silly... And personal experience did not verify God's ability to remove suffering or really make any tangible improvements on life, least of all making Christians better people. I've met a lot of nominal and well-meaning Christians that are not nice at all. (If I'm honest, I used to be one of them.)

Well, what a relief it was to finally have the answer to end all questions! I had been wrestling for so long with trying to fit in the "Christian" box and make moral sense of my friends and the world around me. Finally, the truth was out: the Bible is false, God is not real, and I am no longer bound to moral rules and regulations. 


And so began my truthless years...

Although I felt I had made a golden discovery that there is no moral truth, the reality was that I had let go of the last shred of reason and meaning in my life. I let go of the grid or framework to which every choice in my life referenced. I was more lost than ever, and so I clung with all my might to a new truth, a new grid and framework: nihilistic hedonism.

Nihilistic hedonism is a two-fold belief system. First, nihilism is the skeptical rejection of all moral systems and truth claims and the belief that life is essentially meaningless. Second, hedonism, to put it simply, is the pursuit of sensual pleasure (e.g. enjoying a wicked good slice of cheesecake, etc.). What that basically meant for my life was that I acknowledged almost no moral boundaries to my actions and pursuits of pleasure, and I also believed there were no ultimate consequence for my choices. 

This is the part of my testimony that I'm always fuzzy on... not because I don't remember (although I was that intoxicated a lot of the time) but because I am really not sure how much is appropriate to share. I don't want to glory in my past sin, and I don't want to scandalize you unnecessarily. However, I do feel like some general facts of that season of my life are important because they help illustrate how truly dark and hopeless and dead my life used to be. 

"And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind to do what ought not the be done. They were filled with all manner of unrighteousness, evil, covetousness, malice. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. They are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless. Though they know God's righteous decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them." (Romans 1:28-32, ESV)

I did not start drinking right away. I still had never been kissed. And drugs were out of the question. But choice by choice and over time I capitulated on every one of those fronts and went far beyond what I had ever intended. And with every blackout, every boyfriend, and every high I became a little more numb. I lost my sense of self-worth and what was left of my sensitivities. This continued to the point that I was 19, four years later, estranged from my family, constantly high, depressed, bulimic, and full of very painful regrets. I was a shell of a woman. And I was desperate.


Desperation is an opportunity...

By the time I was back in Auburn to start my Sophomore year, you could say I was a blank slate. I had realized I didn't have all the answers, and I was willing to do a some soul searching. Within a couple of weeks, I realized something: I was dirty. 

You have to understand, despite the overwhelming evidence of that fact, I had never realized it as an absolute reality. But there it was, piercing my heart while I sat all alone, crafting in my apartment bedroom. My soul was permanently smudged and stained with true moral guilt of the acutest kind, and my heart and spirit were irrevocably burdened with shame. My sin was a deeply tragic fact, a bell that "cannot be un-rung," so to speak. The consequences were more than I could bear. 

I spent the next couple of weeks living this new existence, the life of one marked "guilty." Everywhere I went, I felt like there was a stamp on my forehead announcing my shame. I was convinced that everyone I knew could see the stain on my soul. I was mortified with embarrassment. This external perceptibility felt so real that I determined it would keep me from ever getting a decent job or becoming a respectable adult in society. I knew there was no way to "scrub" the shame away or relieve my guilt, but I felt there could be some way to whitewash it a little... some moral teaching and behavior management, perhaps. 

Oh, wait... that sounds an awful lot like religion. 

What a great idea! But which should I choose: Hinduism (they do have fancy spirituality), Islam (nah, don't want to wear a burka), or Christianity? Well, I was in the Bible Belt, after all, so a church would be the most convenient way to go. Of course, I had no intentions of actually believing in God or the existence of any deity; that would be ridiculous. I merely wanted a community of quasi friends to accept me as I am and give me some practical tips for living a morally decent life. Although, I did realize that my Christian friends may feel unnecessarily burdened by the idea of my soul being damned, so I resolved to be sensitive and just not tell them about that. I wouldn't want them worrying. It was a perfect plan!

And so I went to church...

My mom had some friends who were local to me and volunteered to take my sorry butt to church. (This was necessary logistically because I didn't have a car.) It was September 4, 2011. We went to Lakeview Baptist Church, a providentially conservative and gospel-centered congregation. 

Part 1: Sunday School. The college students met in a huge room (AKA "The Fellowship Hall"). Lucky for me, I got there early and was all alone, so I got to feel incredibly awkward as probably a couple hundred happy Christians poured into the room. Great. Not to mention, I felt super guilty just being there. I wanted to run. I didn't know how I'd get home, but I could manage a working escape plan. 

It was time to pick a seat. 

Then, the lights dimmed and the music started. We all stood up to sing together, although I didn't sing. The lyrics were up on big projector screens, so I took the opportunity to enrich myself by reading them, hoping to glean some golden tips for being a better person. Well, that wasn't exactly what they said... it was less like Proverbs and more like Romans. 

The first lyrics spoke of the despair of sin, how hopeless we are, and how truly wretched and filthy sin is. I specifically remember that they even used that word "stain." And I thought... How do they know about my stain? This was not what I came there for! I want help and answers, not to have my shame drudged back up and rubbed in my face! I felt the sadness of my situation washing over me.

Then the next lyrics shocked and captivated me. (Hint: They were about Jesus.) They spoke of the God-Man Jesus: how he chose, of his own volition, to leave the cleanest, awesomest home of Heaven and come into dirty, flawed Earth and be around sinful, nasty people. If that's not weird enough, get this: he suffered and died (again, his choice) for the opportunity to become dirty and to give us his wonderful cleanness. 

WHAT?? I was just fascinated by the whole thing! And here I thought that growing up in church I could've recited the gospel in my sleep. Well, I had never heard it like that! This gospel was amazing, and the most amazing part of it to me was how strange Jesus's behavior seemed. Did he know how good he had it in Heaven? Did he know how grievous it is to be dirty with sin? Why would he give up his cleanness and choose that for himself? 

I gotta tell you, I found the whole story to be absolutely beautiful. I wanted it to be true. But, alas, I knew for a fact that there was no such thing as "God" and no spiritual plane of reality. We are physical and finite beings, and that is that. It was too bad, I thought, because I would love to be clean like Jesus. 

Part 2: "Big Church." Normally Brother Al Jackson preaches on Sundays at Lakeview, but this fateful day there was a guest preacher: evangelist Mark Cahill. He wasn't there to share the gospel with us; it was assumed the congregation had that part figured out. He was there to encourage people to share the gospel. ...not exactly a message designed for the atheist in the room. 

But in his message, he shared story after story of skeptics seeing evidence of a spiritual reality: seeing angels and other supernatural events. These were people like me: faithless, rational, skeptical, scientific. Yet, they testified to seeing these things, which proved them to be real. And there, in that large gathering room, I found my most fundamental presuppositions about reality challenged and shaken. By the end of his message, I felt the most utter despair and desperation that I have ever felt in all my life and will likely ever feel again. This man and his words took the last smidgeon of beliefs I had and left me with nothing. I was empty, drained of meaning, drained of knowledge, void of purpose or hope. Now what? I thought. I came here for answers and all that has happened is that I have more  questions. 


Just then...

Brother Al made his way to the altar. He shared the gospel once more and invited anyone who would come to receive the gift of salvation. I was literally stunned, and in that moment God himself entered my mind and whole being and spoke to my heart in a way that cannot be accurately defined as words but was full of clarity. This overwhelming encounter made me feel as foolish as one can feel for not having seen the plainest truth that God is indeed real, that he's not merely real but also immensely powerful and big. And though I felt so foolish, here he was, telling me that all I'd heard that day was true, that he meant it for me, that he wanted me to hear it and know. 

There is no word more accurate than "humbling" to describe the feeling of having denied, mocked, and hated the God of the universe your entire life and have him return to you a personal pursuit, love, grace, and mercy. As far as this amazing gift of cleanness offered in Jesus, the clearest word from God was something like, I want you to have it. 

I would be lying if I said I received it right away. That's shocking after having such a powerful and clear revelation from God, right? But Satan did not want to be done with me yet. Here are some of the lies he told me: You have done just fine your whole life without God, and you don't need him now. (False; my life was a self-induced wreck.) All of your friends are atheists, and they won't stay your friend if you become a Christian. (Okay, that part turned out to be sadly true in many cases.) You are so filthy; everyone knows it; no one will believe you if you say you of all people have Christ in you. (False; Jesus made me clean, and no one can argue with a changed life.) 

I almost didn't go. 

But God gave me strength and made my feet move. In a rush of purpose, I squeezed past my entire pew, stepped onto the aisle, and made haste to the nearest pastor. When he asked me what I needed, I had no words. He immediately understood. He opened his Bible and read this to me:

"Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance."

(Luke 15:7, ESV)

Then he prayed with me, and I finally received the gift of salvation in Jesus. Jesus took the heavy load of my guilt and sin, and in return he gave me all his cleanness and peace: the great exchange.

From that day, I have not been the girl I was before. My life once was marked with unrighteousness and regret, and now is filled with growing righteousness and the peace of Christ. I was dead and in darkness, and now I am alive and walking in the light. I was one with no hope, and now I have saving hope in the one true God. 

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come."

(2 Corinthians 5:17, ESV)