A journey in faith
Photo: Praise Eguare
I've been blessed to know and love Jesus Christ my entire life. I grew up in a Christian home, and although my childhood was far from perfect and there were quite a few moments I would never want to relive, I do have many happy memories with two parents who love both me and Jesus. I attended Sunday School, my sister and I were in all the church plays - one year, we were in two plays with two different churches at once - I accepted Jesus into my life at about six years old and I never once doubted that he was real.
But, I did doubt that I was legitimately saved. When the pastor would ask who wanted to know the Lord as their Saviour, I would often repeat the sinner's prayer. It wasn't until I was 12 at a church missions trip in Texas that I finally felt like I was truly saved and that year, I was also baptised.
By the time I reached secondary school, my church life was beginning to change. I attended a youth group that I often felt excluded from, particularly among the members of my age group. One girl who had greeted me warmly that Sunday was annoyed when I sat by her on the bus during a school trip later that week. I formed close friendships with the younger girls, but I started to hate going to Youth and, consequently, church.
When my best friend invited me to her church, I accepted, and I fell in love. It was a small, very small country church, the kind you read about in books like "Little House on the Prairie," and everyone was warm and friendly. There was hardly a Youth group, but that was okay, because there was a body of believers who loved and supported each other and although my decision to stop going to the other church caused some discord between my mother and me, I knew it was the right one.
But, then college hit, and with it, busy work hours, busy classes, a busy life. I moved away and couldn't find a church I connected with, so my attendance in church went from rare to none. By the time I graduated, I hadn't been to church in years, excepting the Christmas Eve services I would attend with my family. Additionally, I was barely reading my Bible. The one thing I did still do was pray, but the doubts started creeping in. I was terrified of going to hell but convinced that I was, thoughts that would often keep me up at night, until a close friend told me of 1 Timothy 4:12, a verse I would repeat every night before bed. Along with "Now I lay me down to sleep," it was the only way I could sleep.
Following graduation and a job search of five months that did not come to fruition, I moved back to Mom's while I sorted out my next step. I decided I wanted to apply for a working holiday visa to Ireland and prayed constantly that if it was what God wanted for me, He would make it happen. He did; a visa that normally took eight weeks came in only two, and I was on my way to Iceland for a visit, and then to Ireland. I had no idea that by making the move abroad, I was about to strengthen my relationship with Christ.
The day I arrived, my mom looked up churches on Google and found a place called Cork Church. She insisted I go to it, telling me she felt they would have the answers I required, as I had entered into the country without a job, a place to stay or the knowledge of a single soul. With only six nights in two hostels booked, I had no idea where I would go from there. The idea of attending church again didn't appeal to me in the slightest, but I knew that if I didn't, I would never hear the end of it. After an hour-long nap and a shower, I reluctantly decided to go.
Nearly an hour later and 40 minutes after the young adults group had started, I was certain no one would be there when I arrived. But when I did finally find the place, a woman and her husband were speaking about their move to Ireland, a country where they didn't know anyone, from their home so far away. It was exactly what I needed to hear, that message of hope, and I sat there in rapt attention.
Afterwards, I hung back, trying to work up the courage to introduce myself. Thankfully, two wonderful girls took it upon themselves, and the next thing I knew, I was being introduced to a third girl, who would ultimately become like a big sister to me. She took my contact information and invited me to a birthday party that Tuesday, which I decided to attend. Meeting a fourth girl at the party, I was asked if I was attending church Wednesday night and decided I might as well. And that night is when my Christian life began to be revitalised.
I met one of the pastors after church, who was told that I was looking for a place to stay. He said they might have a room and that Friday, another of the pastors called me to tell me that they did indeed. I moved into my new house that Saturday, the exact day when I needed to leave the hostel and I attended church every Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday night, until I began working.
The first month of my new job was devastating. I hadn't been able to get my PPS (SSN) number in time, nor a bank account, and my job wouldn't pay me for a month. It had taken me two months to find a job and I had little cash left in the bank account back home. I had to rely solely on God and his goodness that month, and my paycheck came just as I had $40 left on my credit card and very little money left in the bank.
Through a particularly stressful job that was often emotionally wearing, I began to dive back into the Word of God. I started chronologically, inspired by my roommate, who had been told by her missions leader to read the Bible like a book. I did, and have since. My church life reinvigorated, my prayer life going strong and reading the Scripture again, I began to feel like an entirely different person. I had always been full of hope and optimism, but it was increased tenfold.
Two jobs later, I was offered an internship in my dream career. I was finally doing what I wanted to do, I loved my church and had found a family there and I had so many close friends. Everything was going amazingly.
Then, I received word from back home that a woman who had been like a second mother to me was in a coma. Two weeks later, she was gone.
It was a rough time for me, but it helped that she had been this incredible woman of God. I knew that I would one day see her again, but knowing that I was unable to attend her funeral being so far away was difficult. If it hadn't been for my church family, I'm not sure I would've gotten through it.
Bottom line: God has been with me my entire life, through every tear I've cried and every step I've taken, and I know He will continue to be with me in whatever comes next. Because I have a good, good Father who knew me before I was even formed in my mother's womb and will always love and shelter me. I feel like I've lived Philippians 4:12-13. As Casting Crowns said, "I will soar with the wings of eagles when I stop and listen to the sound of Jesus singing over me."
Praise the Lord.
