I once wrote a blog post about testimonies (you can read it here). It wasn’t so much an expression of my personal testimony, but rather an assertion of how I feel about testimonies themselves. In that post, I had summed up my actual testimony in two lines:

I will simply tell you that like every person on this earth, I was once drowning in sin. And because of Jesus I am not anymore.

But I am not afraid to tell the whole story, and I want people to know it, in its truest essence. So here now I will relate a more detailed expression of how I came to know Jesus:

I grew up in a Christian family. We went to church every Sunday, said grace before our meals and before we slept, and were constantly challenged to know Jesus more. My family attended McGee Chapel Missionary Baptist Church when I was young (until I was about 8 or 9). I was baptized at that church, likely at age 6 or 7. I have a fading memory of that day and even less memory of the days before it. I do remember being held by my pastor with my feet dangling in the baptism pool, and having a mic brought to my mouth. Someone asked me why I wanted to be baptized and without thinking or truly allowing the question to hit the air, I replied confidently, “Because I love Jesus.” And with that my head flew into the water and back out again. I was reborn. I’ll admit that I do not recall how I felt at that moment. And honestly I do not recall whether I truly loved Jesus at that moment, but who am I to question my 6-year-old faith.

While I was in elementary school, my family moved to a church closer to home, The Church Without Walls, where I have been attending since. I attended children’s church there every Sunday, continuing to learn the fundamentals I started at McGee.

When I was 10 years old, I joined my sister and best friend to a Christian summer camp in Missouri called Kids Across America (KAA). From bible studies to Cross Talk (a vivid reenactment of Christ’s death on the cross), I learned more about Jesus while enjoying a variety of summer activities. I attended summer camp at KAA for four summers. The third summer was that one that had the greatest impact on my life. That summer I viewed CrossTalk for the third time. Each year there was little change to the story (I mean, how could they change it really). But something was different that year. And to this day I cannot tell you what actually happened. As the play is an emotional one, it was not uncommon for campers to cry throughout the viewing. The first two years, I sat and watched it without a single tear, taking on a more curious countenance than anything. The third year however, I was affected. No tears flowed while I sat watching my Savior be whipped and nailed to a cross. But walking back to my cabin in a daze, I arrived at my bed with an overwhelming rush of emotions: guilt, fear, sadness, humility, and love. The next morning I rededicated my life to Christ at the age of 12.

Honestly, my experience at camp that year feels more like my moment of conversion, than the day I sat in the baptism pool. But both moments are definitely significant stepping stones in my life.

I spent the latter part of my middle schools years and the entirety of my high school career struggling through what it meant to be a Christian. Looking back on that time, I would say I lived as a lukewarm Christian through most of my school years. I wasn’t entirely sure what was next. I went to church on Sunday and sometimes bible study during the week. I paid attention and took notes. I listened and attempted to understand. However, I made it through high school feeling distant from God, but holding my confidence in the fact that I was saved. Moreover, I obsessed over my education, or to more exact, my success. I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing as a reborn Christian in this “new life” so I persisted in doing what I knew how to do: excel in school. And yes, I did it to the point of obsession. (You can read more about that obsession here.)

However thanks to that obsession, I was accepted into Houston Baptist University at the beginning of my senior year of high school. It was my first choice. I entered in the Fall of 2012. Thus began my three-year spiritual evolution. To this day, I confess that I learned more outside of the classroom than I did within (sorry, professors). From attending bible studies and worship services regularly to joining a Christian sorority (Sigma Phi Lambda), I surrounded myself with Christ-filled believers and spiritual uplifting. I was experiencing an internal revival daily. And I was working at it too, waking up early to spend time with God and anticipating every chance I could get to learn more about Him. God knew this was an important time for me so he sent me people like my roommate Dina, who shared her story with me and gave me drive, and Kelsey, who was a nonstop fountain of encouragement, and Danny Miller who taught me how to read and understand the bible for myself. I am continually thankful to these people and many others who helped me grow significantly in such a short period.

I came out of college with a renewed passion and love for Jesus. I was changed. In fact, I was so different after college, that many of the people I used to know and many of the things I used to cling to no longer gave me joy or comfort. I found myself naturally separating from them.

A few months after graduation, I began working within a small company, learning the ins and outs of business. I have been working at this place since. And I cannot even begin to outline all the things I have learned. However, as my business knowledge increased and grew, my spiritual growth found itself stuck in quicksand.

I was (and am) still attending church regularly and even joined a Sunday school class. I was (and am) constantly being fed spiritually, but during the work week I find myself in the thick of it. Not to be judgmental or ungrateful, but God seems to have placed me in the midst of a lot of heathens people who do not know Christ and, honestly, don’t seem to care. Thus, I found myself in a constant internal battle, asking should I stay? should I go? am I here to gain perseverance? or am I here to evangelize? or both? should I be interacting with them? or should I remove them from my life? why did God put me here?

Question after question would flood my mind every time I would enter the office and greet the individuals within. Then I started writing and reading and praying. Many of the posts within this blog are a reflection of that. They are a reflection of what I have learned after consulting with God about my experiences in this broken world.

So as of now, my testimony continues. With each day, I learn more and gain a better understanding of my purpose in this life. I wish I could end this entry with a happy ever after, but the truth is that my story isn’t over yet. There’s still more to tell, more to experience. I don’t claim to have evolved into a perfect person, now that I know Jesus. No. If anything, I am constantly reminded just how imperfect I am. And while my imperfection strives to haunt me, I find comfort in one fact: God is love. No matter what I do, who I am, or who I become, God will ALWAYS love me (even more than I can love myself). So as I stumble through this life like a toddling child and struggle through the pains this life provides, I can live in joy and rest in peace knowing that I am His.

K.J. 6/6/2017