My Testimony: A New Creature In Christ

Churches in my region recently held a ladies fellowship event. We gathered together to spend time worshiping the Lord and spending time in a relaxed and fun setting. The event included musical performances, corporate singing, skits, lunch, comical and encouraging videos, and speakers. I was asked to speak and share my testimony as part of a larger discussion of how Christ changes us. Although I have a link to a short testimony on the website, I believe there is value in sharing what I said at the ladies fellowship and giving a more complete story. Below is the testimony I prepared for that event.

Why Share Your Testimony?

Why talk about people’s salvation stories? Is there really a point? Yes! Every salvation story is a real-life example of God’s love, grace, and forgiveness. I hope we can hear everyone’s testimony in Heaven. It’s always (kind of) the same story because it has the same ending, but somehow, each testimony is unique and shows how God works in individual lives.

So, why share my testimony today? It isn’t like I’m particularly special. However, mine is different than many you’ll hear from people in church, and because of that, I have found over the years that some individuals react more strongly to my story. I think one of the reasons is simply related to when I was saved.

Bear with me for a second because I’m a big fan of statistics, and I think they can explain why my salvation might strike people as odd or garner a little extra attention.

In 2018, a survey from the National Association of Evangelicals (NAE) reported the following results:

63% – Christians saved between 4-14 years of age

97% – Christians saved before 30 years of age (34% between 15-29)

As you can see, someone like me, who didn’t come to know the Lord until I was 26 years old, is a bit of an anomaly. So, let’s jump into the story, and I’ll circle back to those statistics at the end.

Religious Background

I grew up as an only child in a typical American Catholic family in suburban Chicago. So, what I mean is…we didn’t go to mass, but my parents did make me attend CCD classes (catechism) every Saturday morning from kindergarten through 8th grade. And in 8th grade, I had a bonus class each week to qualify for confirmation which is a required sacrament in the Roman Catholic tradition. I absolutely resented these classes.

I hated God and church, therefore, I constantly fought against going to CCD. My parents’ view, however, was that I should just get confirmed and then at least I would be “good” when I died. I could choose my faith after confirmation. Do you see the message in this? If I did this work, I would be able to get to Heaven no matter what I chose to do with the rest of my life.

Meanwhile, I spent those years studying the occult and practicing witchcraft. I (embarrassingly) referred to myself as Amber Raven when I was attempting to cast spells, reading tarot cards, and trying to commune with the dead. Eventually, I gave that up because I thought it didn’t work, and I had scared myself enough that I felt it was time to quit.

Ultimately, I considered myself an “agnostic evolutionist.” But, hey, I was all good when I died in case there really was a god, right?

Home Life

My home life wasn’t great. My father was a jailer who worked 2nd shift, so he was rarely home when I was awake. As for my mom, she was a closeted alcoholic who was verbally and emotionally abusive toward me.

Surprise, surprise… My parents really disliked each other. I can’t say they always felt like that, but it was that way as long as I could remember. They divorced my junior year of high school under adulterous circumstances and terrible betrayals to each other and others. It was an ugly situation.

My dad trudged on until he met and married my stepmom while my mother’s questionable drinking became obvious alcoholism. But as for me, I thrived. God, in His great mercy, made me a resilient young woman. And a little oppositional, too. I worked hard, did all I could to keep the peace in my family, and I refused to fall into a self-destructive pattern like so many other children of divorce I knew. I was taking care of myself and certainly didn’t need any god.

College

I moved on to college to earn my degree in Psychology. I had a 4.0 GPA, two part-time jobs, and a ton of emotional baggage.  

On my own with no support, all the insecurities I had been hiding throughout the last couple of years began to take a toll on me. I found myself going from a designated driver to the first one drunk at every party, movie night, or even study session. Also, I sought comfort in the same old place young, broken women have looked for thousands of years. Men. My value rested on A’s in my classes and if I had a boyfriend, or at least male attention.

Graduate School

Next, I moved on to graduate school. My program was at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, and my degree was social work with a school specialization. When I graduated, I felt so accomplished. My name even had letters after it. The Set-Apart Walk, MSW, LSW! How impressive!

Being in the social work program led to a lot of comments about how I must be a good person because I was going to work with kids and take a low paying job to do so. Onlookers saw me as selfless, generous, extra loving, and fulfilled. But they were so wrong!

I didn’t feel like that. I felt miserable. To be totally transparent… I felt like a phony. My drinking and smoking (did I mention I had a daily Camel Lights habit?) had only increased. And my recklessness with drinking and driving was concerning. Not to mention, I had a serious lack of discernment in my choices for company.

Sure, I loved the kids I worked with, but the secret truth was it all served me as much or more than it served them. After all, it made me feel like a good person and look like one, too. And as far as being fulfilled? Not in the slightest!

My life felt purposeless and like it was going nowhere. School, friends, booze, jobs, family, men, and my karaoke hobby all left me feeling like I was still missing something. Then, I thought I found it. Or should I say found him?

Meeting My Husband

One of the only guys in my social work program was a Christian who lived with an elementary school special education teacher, Chris. My classmate invited his roommate out to meet a group of us for karaoke. In walked Chris with ruffled blonde hair, kind blue eyes, and confidence to spare. One look at him and I couldn’t breathe.

He is the kind of guy who is comfortable in any situation and everyone wants to get to know better. I, on the other hand, am the socially awkward girl hiding her face behind her hair near the snacks. If I’m going to be painfully shy, there should at least be snacks, right?

Somehow, it was love. A week after we met, he got my number, and a week after that we were attached at the hip. We knew we had met our future spouse. This was it. I’d found my husband, and in him, fulfillment.

For a year, I spent nearly every day with him; We were practically living together, and we were planning for the future. Where would we live? How long until we got married? What about kids?

A Storm Of Crises

It was at this time that God really upended my life. Chris, unbeknownst to me, was going through a spiritual crisis. He even ended up having a Bible study in his home with two men from a local Baptist church who had come knocking on his door a few times. He didn’t ask me to join because I told him I hated Christians, and I wanted nothing to do with them.

As this was going on, my maternal grandmother and paternal grandfather were both diagnosed with cancer. They were at the same hospital on the same floor at the same time. With my angrily divorced parents in the mix, let’s just say it was a logistical tap dance for me to navigate my visit home to see them in the hospital. Within weeks, my grandfather died. Approximately two weeks later, my grandma passed away, as well.

My dutiful boyfriend took off work and travelled to both funerals with me. I was a wreck, but my mom needed me to hold it together. I soldiered through, but that resilience and toughness I had prided myself on for so long was worn down.  

The bright side was Chris. Things were so serious that he took me to a jewelry store to have my ring finger sized and show him what kind of rings I liked. I just knew good changes were coming!

A Salvation Testimony For Someone Else

But February 23, 2008 came around, and the man that I thought completed me…didn’t. As I already mentioned, Chris was having a Bible study. Well, instead of proving these Baptist boys wrong about the Bible, he realized he needed Jesus. So, he invited me over for a “talk.”

In the end, the boyfriend I had just gone ring shopping with days prior was telling me he wanted to break up, and he couldn’t explain why. I was heartbroken, but when I left, Chris felt free to pray to the Lord for salvation. He didn’t want to step forward to Christ while we were still a couple because he understood I wasn’t going to support his Christian faith. I was a temptation to sin and to reject Jesus. Chris had a choice to make between Jesus and me. He chose Jesus.

Chris reached out over email, a few phone calls, and a breakfast get-together. He tried to share the gospel, but I shut him down each time and talked terribly about him to others. I acted disgusted and told anyone who would listen that Chris had joined a cult. According to me, he was out of his mind.

Limping Forward

I limped on after losing Chris. He moved to Oregon and disappeared from my life as suddenly as he had appeared in it. I graduated with those letters behind my name, got a job with great benefits and decent pay, and I moved in with my best friend. Things were looking up, but I had put all my faith in my relationship and school. Well, both were over, and they hadn’t given me anything permanent or fulfilling.

A year went by in a blurry haze of alcohol-fueled nights, a toxic relationship, and an emotionally draining job in a crime-riddled community. February came around again, promising to be just as bad as the last one. My boyfriend at the time told me, “I was pretending to have feelings for you because it seems like I should. I’ll never love you, but we can keep dating if you want.”

Yeah… So, I left his place forever. I felt relieved to end that relationship, and I finally admitted something to myself I had never truly owned up to. I’m not doing a good job being in charge of my life. I decided maybe I should look into this God thing, too.

I tried reading the Bible and attending the only church with which I had any real familiarity. Catholic Church. I began attending mass 4-5 times a week. But still…nothing. The buildings were beautiful, but I wasn’t experiencing anything spiritual. I was desperate for something to fix me, but it didn’t matter how many times I ate the Eucharist host or recited the “Hail Mary” or “Our Father.” I was still lost and desperate.

My Salvation Testimony…Finally!

God’s timing is perfect. It’s almost never when I would have chosen, but I can always look back and say, “Aaaah. I see what You did there.”

I had told Chris the last time we spoke that he could drop dead, and I only wanted to hear from him if he was trapped under a large piece of furniture. Ladies, I was not a Christian and was heartbroken when I said that, so…my bad?

Nonetheless, over a year after we broke up, Chris saw me on Facebook and decided he was a glutton for punishment and reached out to me. He didn’t come at me with a pitch or particular agenda. He genuinely wanted to know how I was doing. This contact occurred right when I was emotionally and physically spiraling downward and open to any suggestions. Even Jesus.

Over the next few weeks, we chatted online and had a few phone calls. He answered my questions, and he told me to work my way through the Book of John. Then, I read these two verses.

“And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved.”

John 3:19-20

This was me. I hated God, and I loved my sin. But why did I love something that kept hurting me? As I considered what salvation could mean to me, I had serious doubts about my eligibility. How could God forgive me for twenty-six years of reveling in sin and openly mocking Him? It was impossible!

It didn’t matter what I thought was possible, though, because I couldn’t shake God. He was everywhere I looked, in everything I heard, and I felt like He wasn’t going to leave. Finally, I decided that wasn’t so bad.

On May 3, 2009 I went to a church Chris had found for me online. The pastor was expecting me because I had emailed him to ask permission to attend. It seemed like the polite thing to do because I didn’t know what the standard practices were. Pro tip: This is not necessary. Ha!

I don’t remember what he preached, but I do remember the people being kind and feeling like his altar call was about me. Even so, I didn’t raise my hand for him to pray for me. I didn’t come down to talk to someone. As soon as the service ended, I ran. I ended up at a shopping and dining area of downtown Naperville, IL known as the Riverwalk.

I sat on a bench and watched people. They were laughing, smiling, and spending tons of money. (This is one of the richest suburbs in the Chicagoland area after all.) I felt like I was seeing the locals for the very first time. Hundreds of people just filling a void in their soul with things, food, relationships, drugs, alcohol, sports, children, spouses… I’d been doing this, too, and it had gotten me nowhere.

So, right there, outside, in a crowded public place, I tearfully prayed to Jesus. I don’t remember the exact words, but it was something like:

Jesus, sir? (I really didn’t know how to do this.) I know You are Lord and believe God the Father, Your Father, sent you into the world to live a sinless life, die on the cross for everyone’s sins, and then come back to life. You can save anyone. Will you save me? I’ve messed everything up, and I can’t be in charge anymore. I’ve done a lot of things You hate and broken Your commandments. (This is where I confessed some specifics.) I don’t want to do that anymore. Show me Your way and be my God. I’m so sorry. Just help me.

New Believer

Immediately, I felt as if a huge load had been lifted off my shoulders. I could breathe easier, see more clearly, and I understood I was different. Oh, I didn’t know 100% what that meant. Remember, I’d read very little of the Bible, and I’d only been to one church service. But I knew.

The Bible says this about being born again:

“Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.”

2 Corinthians 5:17

This is true whether you were saved at 5 years old or 50 years old. It’s just that being a “new creature” looks more extreme as an adult. As for me, I had what my husband and I call a Mack Truck conversion. I was going one way and then Jesus hit me like a truck, and suddenly I was going wherever He was taking me.

I called Chris when I got home, and he was so excited for me He said he hadn’t gotten his hopes up but knew if Saul could become Paul, then even Julie could get saved. What can I say? He’s a funny guy.

But one thing was certain, I was changed.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch Changes

Not everything changed. I’m still me at the core. On the other hand, so many things I loved and held dear before I knew the Lord are nothing to me. The day I was saved I went straight home and started throwing away DVDs, CDs, inappropriate clothing, and some books, especially the occult ones.

And the changes just kept coming.

I threw my cigarettes away and have never smoked again. As for alcohol, I had a sip of alcohol on May 3rd, May 4th, and May 5th. Each time, I opened a bottle, took a sip, didn’t feel like drinking it, and threw it away. By the third time, I realized God didn’t want me drinking any longer. So, I dumped it all out. I haven’t had even a taste since that day.

I attended every service, replaced drinking with reading the Bible when I felt stressed or sad, and I started telling everyone what had happened. I’d never felt so free in all my life. All the things I was afraid of losing? I didn’t even think about them. I just wanted what God wanted for me.

My life prior to Christ was defined by partying and wrapping up my worth in how funny I could be, how many men made a pass at me, my job, my apartment, how good I was… I lived a shallow, selfish, and lonely life in which I chased the next thing that would promise to bring joy, peace, and purpose. But each time was like taking a huge gulp of water only to find the glass was filled with sand. Nothing satisfied. Nothing healed. And the worst part of it was that I didn’t know because everyone around me was telling me that this was what life was supposed to be like.

But they had it all wrong. It was time to stop listening to them and follow God’s lead instead. Well, He led me to visit Chris in Oregon for Memorial Day weekend and ultimately marry him just three months after I was saved. I went on to “give up” my career to stay home and take care of my family while encouraging my husband to follow the call to full-time ministry. Finally, my life reflects God’s will for me. I’m a work in progress, but I’m following Him rather than the world now.

The Butterfly: An Illustration Of Every Believer’s Testimony

I need to make it clear, though. I did nothing. Jesus changed me without any help from me. He changes everyone who calls on Him to be her Savior. The change has been so drastic that I can only compare it to the extreme metamorphosis we see when a caterpillar becomes a butterfly.

I used to think caterpillars made a little cocoon thing, lost a bit of weight, sprouted wings, and emerged as butterflies. That isn’t what happens at all, though. The caterpillar forms a chrysalis around itself, and then it completely breaks down inside that chrysalis. Essentially, it becomes goo. Gross, I know.

Every part of the caterpillar that is not necessary for the butterfly disintegrates. That part is gone forever, and then a butterfly develops from the rest.

That couldn’t be a better picture of salvation. When we are saved, we don’t add a little Jesus to what we already are. Instead, the Lord makes us new by changing our desires, interests, relationships, and view of ourselves and our sin. We are new creatures in Christ.

Final Thought

You might remember that I gave some stats at the beginning. Nearly 2/3 of Christians are saved between 4-14 years old. I wonder if part of the reason for the age disparity in salvation accounts is our fear of witnessing to adults who seem a little rough around the edges. Can I encourage you to make it a goal to share the gospel with one more adult this week than you normally do?

The gospel is for everyone at all ages, and sometimes Christians look at someone like Julie circa 2008 and think, “lost cause.” As an adult convert, let me tell you that you should say something anyway. Please.

My roommate was a Christian and didn’t witness to me. She talked about her faith, but she never talked about it like it was open to me. After I was saved, she confessed she was surprised to see me become a Christian. Interestingly, my husband’s experience with his roommate is similar to mine. Furthermore, the church that reached my husband had encouraged him to stay away from me and never reached out to me because they “knew” I was so hard-hearted.

I’m so glad that my husband decided to risk getting an earful and share the gospel with me anyway. I’m thankful for a church that saw I was not “one of them” and still took me in, loved me, and taught me.

My prayer is that my testimony serves as an encouragement to you and as a reminder that nothing is impossible for God. And so long as there’s air in your lungs, it’s never too late to be saved.

What about you? What changes did Christ make in your life? I’d love to hear about it!

Image courtesy of REGINE THOLEN via Unsplash.