testimonies

"So, what's your testimony?"

It's a question I have always struggled to answer. I was very young when I came to know Jesus. I don't even physically remember the hour I first believed.

For the longest time, I have answered simply, "I grew up in a Christian family." I've always felt like such a bore giving this answer, especially when it has followed stories of drugs and depression and attempted suicide and intense family issues.

To be frank, I've had a pretty easy life compared to much (if not most) of the world. Problems? Yeah. Sin? Oh, yeah. Even so, I have two wonderful parents who love me very much and whose reverence for Christ was more than evident in their parenting. My upbringing was comfortable and privileged. I had and still have many good friends. I grew up in a church that, despite its past or present struggles, taught me a lot about Jesus and increased my love for him. I've never had any period of rebellion or serious doubt. No really traumatic childhood experiences. I have an education. I've always been fairly healthy. I've never had anyone close to me die. I could go on.

This has always felt like such a lame testimony to me, and recently I've become convicted as to why: in spite of what I know to be true in my mind, my heart is not fully convinced by God's sovereignty or graciousness. I fail to understand that these things in my life are blessings, and that he gave them to me for his glory. It's nothing I did or earned or ever deserved.

...and that's the nature of grace.

It seems more scandalous to me every day.