 I grew up in a picture-perfect, religious household. My mother was raised in the LDS religion and my father was a convert. They met on their mission and they’re good people, but I never felt quite right growing up in that environment. I was pretty sure that God was real and I wanted to love Him, but I didn’t know how. I tried to love Him in the ways that everyone said I should, but I always failed. I wanted so badly to please my parents and God, but I always fell short — VERY short.
I made some foolish mistakes and decisions, as children often do, and I always seemed to screw up more than my sisters or brother. I was the problem child. At an early age, I remember being in psychiatrist offices and other various institutions to be “fixed” of my “behavioral problems.” I eventually learned to accept that I was a rebellious sinner, doomed to make poor decisions, and I acted accordingly. I wanted so badly to be loved and accepted that I found temporary substitutes anywhere I could — friends, girlfriends, etc. I tried working toward being a more perfect person, but that didn’t offer me any comfort either. Unfortunately, I was told that I wasn’t doing enough to show God how sorry I was. I became very depressed and I didn’t want to live anymore. If God wasn’t happy with me, if my parents weren’t happy with me, and if I wasn’t happy with me, then what was the point?
The one thing that kept me going during this time was my grandmother. She lived with my family and was always unconditionally loving and forgiving. No matter what I did or how I messed up, she never treated me any differently. In fact, every day when I came home from high school she would leave a little candy bar on my dresser with a note telling me how great I was, how much she loved me, or how proud she was of me. We were best friends, and I lived for those chocolates and notes. Until they stopped coming.
One night my grandmother fell and broke her hip. She went to the hospital and became very ill. Time passed and her condition worsened, and it didn’t appear she was going to make it. I felt responsible because I had gone to bed just minutes before she fell and I began to believe that if I had stayed awake just a few moments longer then she might have been OK. My grandmother — my only reason for living — was going to die and I thought it was my fault! I couldn’t live with myself and everything began to fall apart. I took a bunch of pills and tried to end my life.
I ended up in the hospital, and my grandmother soon passed away. The day of my grandmother’s funeral was one of the worst days of my life. I was very angry at the world and with myself. The morning after we buried her, I entered a rehabilitation clinic. Surprisingly enough, the “wilderness experience” of that clinic was the turning point in my life. There were a few godly people there who loved me and helped me see that God is real and He cares. Something about being hundreds of miles away from everything with no distractions helped me realize that God is alive and in control of everything! For the first time in my life, I felt peace.
I came home from that clinic knowing that God was real and that I loved Him. The problem was, I still didn’t know how to do that — I only knew what I had been taught all of my life. And as I discovered again very quickly, I would always fail in my attempts to “prove” my love for Him. Years passed as I searched for a way to love God, and nothing worked. No matter how many times I went to church or read the Bible or tried to clean myself up, I always ended up back in the same spot. Until a Christian friend invited me to The Rock.
I wasn’t comfortable at The Rock at first. It went against almost everything I had been taught to think a church should be. In fact, a casual environment, coffee, and rock music were all things I was taught were the opposite of what God would call a church! There was a lot of talk about grace and about how you don’t need to work to receive God’s love and acceptance. I had a hard time with that because I had been conditioned to believe that grace, as a concept, is a cop-out. I had been told it was justification for sin — something that people believe in when they don’t want to do what it takes to get to heaven. It was too easy, right?
I stewed over this concept for a while. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt God’s love for me and the more I wanted to love Him back. The longer I attended The Rock and the more I talked to people there, the more I came to understand grace. I learned that I don’t have to prove myself to God or earn my way to heaven! God knew that we would fail every time we tried to get right with Him by our own efforts. He loved us so much that He came to this earth because we CAN’T get right with Him on our own! He paid the price for our sins before we could do anything to deserve it and gave us a guaranteed ticket to heaven. Through God’s free gift of salvation, I finally learned how to show my love to Him — by accepting the love He’s shown to me.
My life has changed. I am a new person, and God has blessed me since I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. Is my life perfect? Far from it! I still make mistakes and screw up, but I know that I am God’s. I know that He is in control of my life and my eternity, and I know that nothing can separate me from Him. He loves me, and I never have to question that! I could never ask for more. |
