My Testimony

         I grew up in a Jewish home where love was always upon a condition.  Lose 20 lbs, and you are loved.  Get all A’s on your report card and you are loved.  Do the dishes without being asked, or perform some other chore, and only then is loved displayed.  By the time I was 16, I felt as though I was the most unlovable creature on the face of the earth.  I was convinced that no one could possibly love me or would miss me if I were gone.  I was plagued with thoughts of suicide for many, many months.  I had several suicide plans in place that would look like an accident so my parents would not have to suffer the same shame in my death that I perceived them to have most of the time with my life.

         The summer before my senior year, I had an experience that I will never forget. I had decided to end my life, and was waiting for it to get dark enough so that the driver of the semi that I would step in front of would not know what really happened.  I was at band camp, in a very rural area, and had reached the lowest of the lows.  As I mentally said my goodbyes to all that I thought I would miss in my life, I rose from my spot beneath a tree to head to the highway.  I had had enough planning and plotting, and it was time to end the misery.  When I stood up, something (or someone?) seemed to block my way.  I was enveloped in a cloud of such peace and such comfort that it is indescribable.  Not understanding spiritual matters, I didn't really know what happened, but I just felt really okay for the first time in many months.  I simply walked back to camp and rejoined my friends.  I was not tormented with suicidal thoughts again for several years. 

         When I went to college, I met a boy named Phil who shared the gospel with me.  My friends there made fun of Phil because he struggled with drug addictions, and would vacillate between his life of drugs and a Christian walk.  My friends told me that he was in “Jesus Freak” mode when I met him.  God’s timing is amazing.  Phil shared things that I had never heard before.  When I had questions, particularly about Jesus, I would tell him that I didn’t believe in his New Testament, and he would have to use the Old Testament to prove what he said was true.  If Phil didn’t know right away, he would call me within a few hours to let me know that he found the passage that would show me the answer to my question.  We had many, many long conversations, but I just wasn’t sure that I could allow myself to become a Christian, knowing that I would lose my Jewish family in the process.  Yet, for the first time, I felt the love of God – the unconditional love that He intends for us all to know and experience. 

         During our last conversation, Phil asked me what it would take for me to believe that the Bible is God’s Word and that God truly did want me to accept Christ as my personal Savior.  He had already spent countless hours sharing scriptures and sound doctrine with me that truly made sense.  I had cut my hand with a knife the day before and had a gaping wound.   Phil said that he could, through the power of Christ heal my hurting hand, if I would just believe.  I allowed Phil to lay hands on me, and he told me that I was healed by Christ’s stripes, and when I believed it, I would see the healing. 

         The next day, I went to our college bookstore and bought a Bible.  I bought one that had the edges gilded, and the pages were all stuck together.  I brought it to my dorm room, and sat it in my lap and prayed.  I told God that I knew that if I embraced Christianity that I would lose my Jewish family, but if He wanted me to follow Christ He needed to prove to me right then that this is what I should do.  I opened the Bible to the first page that “unstuck” itself, and my eyes landed on Galatians 3:28:  “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female:  for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.”  Well, I thought that was just a coincidence, so I closed the Bible, and opened it again.  (Remember, the pages were still newly stuck together!).  This time my eyes landed on Romans 10:12, 13:  “For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek:  for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon him.  For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.”  I thought that was weird that it said almost the same thing, and still thought it was coincidence.  So one more time, I closed the Bible and then opened it again to Colossians 3:11:  “Where there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircumcision, Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor fee, but Christ is all and in all.” 

         This was the third time, God showed me the same truth, and I fell on my knees and accepted Christ as my Savior – right there, all alone in my dorm room.  I cried and I prayed and I thanked Him, and as I rose, I looked at my hand with the knife wound.  The cut closed before my very eyes, and I knew then that no matter what else would happen with my family, God had certainly gone out of His way to convince me through His Word that He wanted me as part of the family of Christ.

         I tried to get a hold of Phil to let him know what I had just experienced, and friends told me that he had relapsed, and had left campus to get into a rehab facility.  I was amazed that God brought Phil into my life for those few weeks, knowing it would take someone with his ability to take my badgering and my questions and my demands to have immediate answers.

         I have since come to believe that my guardian angel did not allow me to step in front of that semi that lonely, dark night just 15 months earlier because God knew that I would come to this place of accepting Christ as my Savior.  He knew I would believe His Word, and He sent that angel to block me from my own path of destruction.  (As an aside, Phil also was able to kick his addictions, and married his high school sweetheart that next summer).

         I wish this would now end with, “and she lived happily ever after,” however, that is not the case.  I kept my conversion a secret from my family for about 18 months, and as expected, when I did share with them about my Christianity, I was indeed threatened with being disowned.  Instead of being steadfast in my faith, I could not fathom being cut off from my family, so I chose to “not believe,” and to turn my back on Christ.  My mother insisted that I transfer to a different college (so I ended up in Ohio, since Ohio University was the first college to accept my transfer).  This next year was another very low and difficult season in my life.  I led a lifestyle that I am not proud of, still trying to fill the void that only Christ can fill.  When I reached rock-bottom, I was tormented once again with suicidal thoughts.  But this time, I reached out to my Heavenly Father.  I was ashamed that I had turned my back on Him, and yet, there He was ready to forgive me and to bring me back into His loving arms of fellowship once again.  This time I knew that no matter what, my life with Christ was now a matter of life and death with me.  As expected, my parents did disown me – for 6 years.  They were not a part of my marriage or the birth of my first two children.  Those were very painful years in many ways, and yet God continued to bless me with loving brothers and sisters in Christ to fill in the gap.  The passage that kept me together was Luke 18:29-30:  “And he said unto them, verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath left house or parents or brethren or wife or children for the kingdom of God’s sake who shall not receive manifold more in this present time, and in the world to come, life everlasting.”  I clung to those words many times during those years of separation from my family.  And God was faithful and never-failing.  Shortly after the birth of my son, my father wanted to know his grandchildren, and we reconciled once again.  We had 14 years together again before my father died and another 15 years before my mother died.

         Life has not always been easy, but God continues to fill me with His love and peace, and He grants me strength and the knowledge that I need to remain steadfast in His care.  I have withstood many trials, and there are days that I am more than ready for Christ’s return.  I don’t know why God rescued me from the depths of despair – even sending an angel to rescue me from destroying my life. I don’t know why He took the time to prove to me that I am lovable and worthy of His love.  I don’t know why He has given me a lifetime of second chances.  But this I do know – God has gone out of His way to show me that He chose me from before the foundation of the world to be His daughter, and I long for the day that we will meet face to face.