My Testimony: God's Carefully Planned Blockbuster

Every testimony is a riveting, compelling and awesome story. A testimony is way more exciting than any blockbuster hit, because every testimony's central figure is the greatest hero we could ever imagine: Jesus Christ. This is why I'm sharing my testimony, although it will help readers to get to know me better, my goal is that this real-life blockbuster will bring Glory to God.

I was born on November 11, 1989. I can only imagine the emotions my mother felt as she held me for the first time, tears flowing down her cheeks as she finally gazed upon the child she had been imagining since she had first dreamed of being a mother. Most girls dream of motherhood well before we are even capable of having children, and my mother is no exception! There is no doubt in my mind that there are tears on my mother's cheeks as she holds me, but I wonder if some of those tears are not of joy but of sorrow. She wonders if I will have my father in my life, if he will be there to see my first steps, teach me to ride a bike, and how to drive when I turn 16. It turns out he isn't there for any of those things, and so much more...

(My Mother Rose & I, Age 2)

My mother raised me on her own, with some help from my Grandparents at the beginning. From the moment I was born she had to take on the duty as mother, father, sister and brother. I'd sleep in her bed almost every night. She painted every house in our room, and fixed anything broken in our home. She brushed my hair, painted my nails, and talked to me about boys. She even had pillow fights with me. It's from my mother that I learned to be strong, to pick myself up when everything seemed to be pushing me down. But, as I got older I began to learn that no human-being can be my superhero. Because really, nobody does it on their own. I've always had a Father, I just didn't acknowledge him the way he deserved, and my Father in Heaven has always protected and loved me.

(My Best Friend Ashley & I, Age 13)

As a child I grew up in a Catholic home. I attended Catholic school until Grade 8, although I don't remember reading the Bible or praying in my home as a child. But, God always makes provisions, and he provided for me spiritually as any good Father should. My mother was able to get a government subsidy at a daycare for me when I was about 15 months old. The daycare was part of a Baptist church. For the first 5 years of my life I learned about Jesus' love and studied the Bible from the numerous Christian women that took care of me from 9-5 everyday. I was growing up in a Christian environment by the Grace of God.

When I was 11-years-old I attended a Vacation Bible School at the very same church that I had once gone to daycare in. By this time I was not being nourished spiritually, and I had a longing in my heart to grow deeper in my understanding of Jesus Christ. During that week I accepted Jesus Christ in my heart, and began attending Bramalea Baptist Church, mostly on my own since my mother worked most weekends. By 12 I was baptized, and had a very close group of Christian friends. I served during the summer at many summer camps, spending nearly 10 hours a day teaching about Jesus' love and learning from the children myself. I was growing spiritually, becoming a prayer warrior, fostering life-long friendships, and yearning to serve my God.

Every testimony has a climax. The part where God circumcises your heart, changes it completely, and gives you his Holy Spirit to guide you through the rest of your life. I truly do not believe that I had the Holy Spirit or understood what it meant to follow Jesus, even while I lived the picture perfect Christian life in my early teens. When I was 14-years-old my life took a turn for the worse, and little did I know, but I was about to enter a 5-year battle with addiction that I would never think I could escape. The summer I was entering Grade 10 I met a young man from my church who changed my life. We began dating, and I was officially on cloud nine. He was significantly older then me (I was 14 and he was 17), however, I didn't feel that it made much of a difference because in my heart I felt that my maturity surpassed people my age, and even his own age. This young man was from a Christian home, and I was ecstatic. I felt like I was finally a part of a real Christian home, where divorce was never an option and everybody prayed before they ate together. During this time my relationship with my own mother crumbled. She didn't have what I needed anymore, so I neglected her. She also didn't know what was best for me because she didn't have the wisdom I had as a prayer warrior and ambassador for Jesus Christ (Note my sarcasm!)

My life during this time was in a downward spiral. I stopped spending time with my friends, I idolized my new boyfriend. I vowed to never forsake him, to always love him and one day marry him. I was going to have the life his parents had, I was going to be taken care of financially, and in exchange for my security I would bear many children and be a wonderful and doting wife. Quickly, I stopped caring for my boyfriend, and simply cared for the lifestyle I would one day have. I stopped idolizing him and began idolizing his family situation. When I stopped caring about him, I stayed with him so that I could continue to be part of his Christian family. This lasted for nearly 2 years, but by that time I realized that there were other men just like him who could offer me the same thing.

For the next 5 years, from about 14 to 19-years old I spent my life bouncing from boyfriend to boyfriend. I couldn't last a month without finding a new crush, or multiple crushes. I stopped praying out of guilt, my Bible collected dust under my bed. My relationship with my Christian friends ended. I started spending time with people that didn't serve Jesus Christ, who didn't understand the Gospel. My mother and I grew more and more distant. I gave away my teenage years to undeserving boys; my heart, my mind, my body was no longer mine, and definitely not Jesus'. I was broken and lonely and hurt, but I was so afraid to stop my destructive cycle. My dream of finding a doting Christian husband was shattered, who would love me after what I had done to myself?

(Mom & I at my Grade 12 Prom. Our Relationship
was under an incredible amount of stress at this
time: Age 17.)

When I was 17-years-old I moved out of my house and into a dorm room. My roommate was a Christian. This year was the most rebellious and destructive year of my life. I was malnourished spiritually, and seeking nourishment from boys who didn't have a clue who Jesus was. My roommate and I fought constantly, I made fun of her for being so uptight. I was furious that I had to live with such a straight-edged Christian. I caused such a sweet girl immense suffering and frustration because of my own selfishness. I started going to Campus for Christ, and even accepted Christ into my life again, only to reject him and continue in my own addiction and destructive behaviour. Throughout these five years of self-inflicted heartache, I would often remember my favourite verse as a preteen:

"Hear O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you sit down, and when you rise up." Deuteronomy 6:4-7 (ESV)

By the time I was 19-years-old I was completely depressed. My soul longed for something deeper, something meaningful. I had put my whole life into the pursuit of my education, but now I felt little meaning in it. I had longed to find a suitable husband, but I had wasted 5 precious years polluting my heart and my body. I didn't even know what a suitable husband was anymore, what should someone as defiled as me expect from a man? I had found a few guys that had even expressed interest in marrying me, but I couldn't see myself ever spending my life with these boring and dull men. Little did I know that God was just protecting me from a miserable life and marriage with men that didn't know a thing about fearing the Lord.

Christmas 2008 marked a transformation that only God could have initiated. I did not pray The Prayer, you know, where you commit or re-commit your life to Christ. I prayed a million prayers, prayers that did not come from my lips, but the depths of my heart.
I repented
I begged
I cried
I gnashed my teeth and bashed my head against my fists.
I lay on the floor, all energy zapped from my muscles, pain seeping into my bones.
I continued to pray.

Finally, after a month, I got off the floor. I began to study. I took my dusty Bible from under my bed and I studied my Father's Word. My school books were pushed to the side, the pile growing larger as each week passed. I watched sermons online. I learned about theology, and decided that I was a Charismatic Calvinist. My Father introduced me to his friends, and so I learned from them too. I studied the Word, and listened to Mark Driscoll, and John Piper, and Charles H. Spurgeon. I praised God for such godly men. I begged God for one just like them, "Oh God, please let me meet a Charismatic Calvinist! Someone who knows what it means to be a godly man, who yearns to serve you." I prayed particularly for a man who wanted to be a pastor. I felt a calling to be a pastor's wife. The end of March soon arrived, marking 3 months of extensive biblical study. Exams would start soon, but I couldn't remember the last time I'd gotten off my knees and gone to school. Around this time, my best friend Ashley, a beautiful, Christian, and godly woman (and now wife) introduced me to her dear friend Daniel. He was a godly man, he was accepting of my past because he too had been God's enemy, but God had still adopted him as His son. And little did Daniel know, but he would become a Charismatic Calvinist too.

It's been 9 months since I first began a relationship with Daniel. We first started to fall in love in April, when my exams had started. I had spent the last 3 months ditching school to fall in love with Jesus, and now Daniel. But, God was gracious and I passed with a B- average. I now have 3 short months left until I graduate with a B.A. in Religious Studies (yep! I changed my major!) I'm no longer a scholar of higher education, instead I'm a child of God, and a student being taught by my Heavenly Father. I've been forgiven, and set free from the bondage of sin. I've received the Holy Spirit, and I pray that he guides me in every step that I take.

As for Daniel, he changed his major too. He's becoming a pastor.



My beloved, Daniel. (Age: 20).