I think my grandmother accepting Christ this morning is a testament to two things: God is good and my mom is a truly faithful servant. For years she has cared for my father's mother (recently this includes changing her diapers and wiping her butt after she takes a crap) and ministered to my grandmother, and today, twenty plus years of being an amazing daughter-in-law and faithfully praying and exposing my grandmother to church finally paid off. Praise God. And thank God for good people like my mom.

After the regular service there was a special time of open testimony in honor of Thanksgiving. Basically a time for anyone in the congregation to take the mic and express what they were thankful for this year. My mom encouraged me to share, since this has been quite a year for me, but somehow I just couldn't make myself raise my hand and then it was over and it was time for lunch.

I kind of regret it, because I have a lot to share and be thankful for and I really owe it to God and other people in my life to talk about what I've experienced in the last eleven or so months.

So I guess I will be doing it here. Forgive me if this becomes somewhat rambly and I go off on some tangents. There's a lot to cover. So here it is, my Thanksgiving testimony...

I started going to church when I was five years old. I am one of those kids who grew up in the church, I was a fixture on Sundays, all the adults knew me and watched me grow up, I was in the children's band, looked forward to the day I would be old enough to attend Youth Group on Friday nights, eventually I became a Sunday School teacher and babysat kids while their parents attended church meetings and fellowships, I faithfully participated in every church retreat...you get the picture.

But through all those years of being a good little church girl there was one thing that always bothered me. I KNEW God existed and I had even experienced Him in my life, but I was always just a little bit jealous when I heard the testimonies of people who had found God later on in life. They all had these amazing stories of how God transformed them, changed their lives completely around and I felt like because I had always known God I missed out on that incredible experience of being on fire for God for the first time in your life. Since I started going to church at five years old, I can't say I even remember a time when I didn't believe in God.

It sounds kind of stupid to me now as I read over what I've written, but that's how I felt.

Anyway, like a lot of kids who grow up in the church, I started to fall away the older I got. I guess it started during my senior year of high school, which was an unusually rough year for me. My parents almost split up, a friend passed away in a car wreck the day after Christmas and some crazy girls started sending my friends and me death threats, that eventually turned into a fiasco involving the police department and the school board. So maybe on some level I was angry at God, I don't know, but I started to really take Him for granted. I can't really blame it all on those events though, I think a lot of it had to do with the whole teenage-I-want-to-do-my-own-thing-and-have-fun attitude.

So I stopped going to church. I told myself it was okay as long as I knew I had a relationship with God. I was all, you don't have to go to church to be a good Christian, you can totally worship God in your own way. Which I guess is theoretically possible, but for me? Honestly? When I stopped going to church, I pretty much stopped thinking about God.

My four years at UCLA I probably went to church about, oh, three times total. I truly believed in my heart of hearts that I was still a Christian, still had a relationship with God, but who was I kidding? I didn't have a relationship with Him unless you count the times when I did something stupid and would then pray to God, promising never to do it again if only He would see me through this time. Of course, I always did it again (whatever it was). I certainly believed in God all those years but I didn't let Him be part of my life and I probably didn't want Him in my life either. What I wanted was to have fun. Figure things out MY way. Do what I wanted to do.

Then I graduated. And started working (ridiculous hours for ridiculously crappy pay). And I continued making excuses for why I didn't need to go to church. I just continued along on my merry way, doing what I wanted to do without a thought to what God wanted me to do. I did still feel God's presence in my life but I made a lot of bad decisions without His input until finally, at the beginning of this year, I was knocked flat on my back. I got sick. Really, really sick.

After learning a bit more about my condition I discovered that, in all likelihood, my suffering was caused by my desire to be part of THIS world. To follow the trends, to please my own vanity...and look where it got me.

The thing that amazes me now is that it was at this point, when I was so small and completely broken, that God reached out to me. No, I was not miraculously healed, but I was miraculously led to one of the top doctors in the field. I was lying in bed after having been awakened by some of the worst back/shoulder pain I had experienced to date and agreed with Paul that I definitely needed to take the day off and find myself a doctor. Fast.

So we went to the Blue Cross website and started going through lists of doctors, Paul pointed at one with a Beverly Hills address and I called him. His secretary said he was really busy but that she would give him the message and have him call me on his lunch hour. He did indeed call me back and was moved enough by my story to agree to see me. On that day. Which was a Friday. At 6:00pm. Which was after his office was closed. Six months later while I was sitting in his waiting room another patient asked me how it was I came to see this doctor and she was SHOCKED because she said normally it takes at LEAST four months to get a first appointment with him.

So you see, after I had rejected God and basically told Him, I know better and I don't need you, He still loved me enough not to want my kidneys to spend four months being ravaged by this disease that had been brought about, in part at least, by own pride and vanity. He led me to an incredible doctor that diagnosed my condition in two weeks as opposed to years, which is actually the more common story.

You would think that something like that would wake me up, but I can be surprisingly stubborn and when my parents came down for my hospital stay I still turned down the invitation to go to church with them. I don't know, maybe I was tired and weak or whatever, but I'm pretty sure I could have gone if I'd really wanted to. There was still something holding me back. Still something making excuses for why I could do things my own way and everything would be okay.

I'm sure my mother and sister and probably my cousins prayed all week, because that is just the kind of faithful people they are. And that is probably why when my mom came back to visit me the next weekend, I did agree to go with her.

I remember very clearly, one of the songs we sang during worship that day was "When The Tears Fall" and when we sang the line When pain surrounds, I'll call you Healer I started to cry. It struck a nerve in me. To this day that song makes me choke up. After the sermon, Pastor David had my family go into his office and he prayed for me and put oil on my forehead. I was changed by God that day.

And God so graciously gave me what I now realize I had been so foolish to want. I didn't get to have a "my first realization of God's presence" story, but I got my "idiot prodigal son welcomed back by an unimaginably loving Father" story. Don't get me wrong, I still struggle every day with the remnants of those five years of my life. Seriously, every day. There are some habits I still have yet to break, sadly. But I think I'm moving in the right direction and I really want to thank God for giving me such an awesome birth family, as well as my new church family. I've finally come to the realization, that at least for me, I can't be a good Christian without going to church. I'm too weak on my own and I need people around to give me a good slap once in awhile when I veer off course. Which, knowing me, happens quite often.

I don't know how to end this, so how about if I just finish off with the words to my favorite song.

I've had questions, without answers
I've known sorrow, I have known pain
But there's one thing, that I'll cling to
You are faithful, Jesus, You're true

When hope is lost, I'll call You Savior
When pain surrounds, I'll call You Healer
When silence falls, You'll be the song within my heart

In the lone hour, of my sorrow
Through the darkest night of my soul
You surround me, and sustain me
My defender, forevermore

And I will praise You, I will praise You
When the tears fall, still I will sing to You
And I will praise You, Jesus praise You
Through the suffering still I will sing

Oh yes, You've been good to me
You've always been good to me
So trustworthy

Like a well-watered garden
Who's springs never fail
You are faithful and true