Spiritual Autobiography

I sit with notebooks of my past journalings sprawled around me. Each one contains softly penciled precious thoughts, recordings of events, doodles, and half-written stories: the ideas that make me who I am. Old though they seem to me now, my journey with my Father began long before these pages were written.

The family I grew up in was loving, strongly Christian, and conservative.  I was given a solid foundation in the knowledge of God and was homeschooled from kindergarten up.  Born on April 23rd 1989, I was raised in New Jersey, the middle child of three girls: Laura, two years older, and Julianne, five years younger. I was adventurous, tomboyish, imaginative, and loud among acquaintances, yet shy around strangers. Stubborn and hard headed, I would often resist my mom’s schooling efforts and get myself into mischief.
Church plays a central role in my story. I learned a lot of doctrine from my church and family (my dad had attended to the seminary connected with the church) but it remained head knowledge. I would seek spiritual experiences, especially during Communion as I watched the members of the church take the cup and bread I would try to work myself up to feel the gravity of the occasion by imagining the brutality of Jesus’ sacrifice. I assumed that I would partake of baptism and membership along with all the others in my age group when I was considered old enough.

October 1999, almost exactly 13 years ago, we moved to Jenison, Michigan with the intent of attending one of two churches which were sister churches of my home church in New Jersey. However, only a few months after moving here, we left the church in which we had intended to become members in the first move of a “church odyssey” which spanned years. We attended a wide variety of denominations: Brethren, Strict Baptist, Orthodox Presbyterian, Reformed Presbyterian, non-denominational, church plants, etc. Every Sunday was spent huddled with my sisters listening to my parents discuss the finer points of theology, church practice, etc, as they decided if the church would be a good fit. Though we didn’t have much social interaction during the week, my sisters and I didn’t look forward to attending church yet again as the “new visitors.”

On and off during the time, I would battle with guilt over my sins: stubbornness towards my mother, fights with my sisters, and lack of diligence at schoolwork. Every day I’d try to start with a fresh slate, but I could never manage a full day without getting tangled in my sin.
One week in November 2000, I spent almost every night afraid to go to hell, crying and praying myself to sleep. I knew that although I believed all the right things, I was not giving my life to God in repentance. That Sunday, we visited a new church, whose walls were the same white painted brick as that of my home church back in New Jersey. I can’t remember the thought process that went through my head, but the Holy Spirit changed my heart that night. In the dark back seat of our old station wagon, heading down 1-96, I looked out at the winding road behind me and know that I was changed person. My heart belonged to another master, and the heavy guilt of my sin was gone. I began to trust Him that day, and for the first time I began to know His power and goodness. I know my life was changed then and I truly wanted to live for Him instead of just trying to good to escape earthly consequences and ultimately, hell.
I told no one of God’s encounter with me, but I felt a new peace as I went about my daily tasks. Though I still struggled with sin, I was no longer a slave. My parents later recalled that they could see a big change in my life at that time.

During this time, my family had shifted from typical Reformed Baptist to living a very conservative lifestyle. Many of the people we knew were “plain folk”. They lived simple lives, separated from worldliness. Like them, we girls began wearing dresses every day. We were about the nerdiest homeschoolers you could conjure.
I had many friends during this time, or, rather, second hand friends, because Laura was always more sociable and easy to talk to than I. My only true friends were still my sisters. We spent all day, every day together, which - as you can imagine - led to many fights, but many sweet moments as well. I learned a lot academically from being homeschooled, but the socially limited environment was depressingly dull.
Around 2004, our family began to re-attend Grace Immanuel Reformed Baptist Church (GIRBC) in Grand Rapids. Although our family did not seek membership at the time, my sisters and I deeply longed to be involved.

It was around the same time that another pivotal piece came into the story. One afternoon, Laura and I came upstairs to find a video cassette lying on the kitchen table. Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring.
My life was never the same. I say this half in jest, but truly, the next year, in which we watched each of those movies an even dozen times, completely changed my perspective on life. Instead of considering each day as a slate which I attempted to keep clean from sin, life unraveled as a story, and I saw it for what it is, a heroic battle between good and evil. It was as if a sword was placed in my hands, giving me the opportunity to be victorious over the dark, not merely keeping it at bay. I saw the beauty of the world as a setting for this battle, a testimony against the dark to illuminate the love and order of our Creator.
 
Through high school, we continued to be homeschooled, though by this point, we had full charge of our own schooling. This was a difficult time in my life, because we still had little social interaction, and the close, strong family we had had was falling apart. We basically raised ourselves during this time. I felt like Eowyn: "I fear a cage. To be trapped behind bars until use and old age accept them."Long story short, our family grew out of the conservative stage. My parents moved on to another church, but we three sisters remained at GIRBC. I got a job at Sunset Retirement Home in the food service at 17, in the footsteps of Laura. I was very shy at work at first.  Working with dozens of girls from various backgrounds introduced me just a little into the ways of the world. Gradually I developed confidence in my work, and Sunset became like a second home to me

At the age of 18, I learned how to drive -and crash- cars. Each of the three cars I totaled within three years was a little message from God. It was as if He took each car in His hand and placed it on the side of the road, without any harm to my passengers or myself. I think He just wanted me to learn that He is in control of everything.
Needless to say, the thousands of dollars that went into my cars left me short on college money. In part to save up, in part because I was afraid of college level work, and in part because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to go to college for, I took a year off after finishing school. I worked practically full-time hours at my job.
2007 was also the year I experienced one of the most beautiful days in my life. I officially became an adult that year, and my dad believed that adulthood was the age to be initiated in baptism, so I made public profession of my faith, declaring God alone as my Savior and Lord, and was welcomed into church membership.

The summer before I started college was a formative one. Being responsible for all the paperwork necessary for entering college was overwhelming, since while homeschooling I had been unused to deadlines and making important decisions. One event summarizes this time of life for me.
The week before school started, I went with my church friends down to the blustery Lake Michigan beach, where some of us went pier jumping. After jumping in, I realized my strokes weren’t taking me closer to the ladder; instead, I was being drawn out into the lake. The waves were high and every breath was cut short by a cresting swell. Unable to swim for the ladder and almost unable to breathe, I panicked. One of the guys had to jump in and guide me to the other side of the pier where there was another ladder.
It struck me that the same sinking, drowning emotion of trying in vain to swim back to the pier was the same way I felt when burdened by the weight of responsibility. It was the feeling of trying to accomplish something in my own strength and knowing that that strength wasn’t in me. Although I knew that God was in charge, and that I couldn’t do anything of value outside of his power, I had never experienced this truth so vividly. Entering college, I strove to remain close to God, to spend time with Him, hear His voice, and depend on Him for strength, and not myself.

At 19, I started school at GRCC. Though I had never been so stressed in my life, I loved every minute of it. I finally felt fulfilled, and that my life was full of direction. The cultural diversity of CC and the liberal atheistic mindset broadened my mind and focus. Also, I finally had good friends who appreciated me for who I was. I was growing in my friendships, responsibility, and my relationship with God.

However, my second year at CC was shadowed by a dark cloud: doubt. The social work classes I was taking at the time did not help: I drove home from many a class questioning everything I had believed about how government works and our role as Christians to help those in need. During that time I doubted everything except for God. That spring, I found myself doubting even Him. My love of philosophy and desire to be open-minded left me questioning not the assurance of my salvation, but if there was even a God. How could we prove His existence? What would my life look like if I didn’t believe in God? Innately, I knew that my life would need to be consistent with whatever belief system I chose. If I believed in God, it would follow that I’d need to be sold out, body and soul, to God. So, I gave myself a rumspringen(an Amish tradition where young people who were raised Amish are given a year to live in the world before becoming full members of the Amish for life), three days, I told myself, where I would disentangle myself from the Christian presuppositions and think for myself.  It ended up being a whole lot longer than that. Though it was exciting to probe the extent of my mind and belief at the time, the cloud grew ever blacker. I didn’t even want to pray to God or read Christian material, because we are most influenced by what we are surrounded with, and I wanted to make up my own mind. I am very thankful for the solid friendships God gave me during this time that helped me keep my footing. My dear friends prayed for me, presented me with the weaponry of Christian philosophy, and encouraged me to remain involved in church ministries and events.
One bright day walking home from work, I was darkly ruminating the recesses of philosophy and finding no escape, when I passed a church with a shining white steeple. It offended me. How could anyone be so arrogant as to claim that their way was so high above others? At the same time, I was drawn to it. They were so sure. Confidence is an attractive thing. There was such a beauty to the contrast of the white steeple against the bluest of blue skies. How could such beauty come to be? There must be some solid truth. This moment was the turning point. I did not reach a conclusion that day, except to recognize that if I wanted to believe God, the logic would point me in His direction, and if I did not want to know God, I could use that same philosophy against Him. It all had to do with which I chose to believe.
God is faithful. Even when I turned away from Him, He still held me and brought me back. Eventually I remembered. I did know God, just as one knows another person. I had seen Him work. I had heard His voice. How could I pretend He didn’t exist? Just because there is no proof of the persons’ existence does not mean they never were.

I graduated from CC with my associates in 2011. I knew that if I was meant to be a social worker, and counsel others, I would need to further my education at a Christian college, where my weak faith would be strengthened. I had heard my friend Jerika glowingly describe Kuyper’s spiritual focus, doctrinal soundness, and affordability, so I put in my application. It was that simple. No second guesses, no college tours. The acceptance interview had me sold. I’m still sold.
A month before I began at Kuyper, I moved out from my family’s home to live with Cindy Bushnell and work at the Adult Foster Care home she has in her house. Here I take care of four mentally disabled ladies. Along with the benefit of living 5 minutes from Kuyper, I have been able to experience Cindy’s gracious hospitality and a less hectic schedule.
Eventually I realized that social work was not my calling, and, due to my love of literature, switched majors to English. I’m thinking I’d like to work in the prison system, bringing art and literature to the inmates through programs such as Shakespeare Behind Bars, which helps prisoners to put on Shakespeare productions. However, while I used to want my life outlined ahead of me, with the hope of a neat little job after college, I’m now open to any kind of ministry. It’s exciting to see the subtle ways in which God leads and to anticipate seeing Him direct my life.

The testimony of God’s work in my life is not done, indeed, I know it will never end, and one day in heaven I hope I will be able to tell you my story again, in greater detail and with greater knowledge and more glory given to the One who has given me Life.