Amanda of Worthy of Agape is hosting a link-up of conversion stories and as I’m a convert, I thought I’d share mine. (How many are you surprised? Leave me a comment and let me know if you are.)
My parents aren’t religious and raised us without a faith. My dad is pretty much secular humanist/atheist material and my mom was raised Episcopalian but is more of a Buddhist these days. (She has said, however, that she would totally become Lutheran if Jon was the pastor of the church in town which is a pretty big compliment to him.) Despite this, I grew up with a belief in God even if I wasn’t entirely sure who or what God was.
There are a couple of events that stand out:
[+] When I was 6, my neighbor Mrs. G invited the evil twin and I over to bake cookies at Christmas. After we finished baking, she read the Christmas story to us from a book of Bible stories for kids. Sean (the evil twin) and I both loved having people read to us so we asked her to keep going and ended up hearing all about Jesus’ ministry, the Cross, and His resurrection. I don’t know if she realizes it but almost 27 years later, I point to that afternoon of baking cookies as the place and time when the seed of the Gospel was planted in me.
[+] When I was 9 or 10, I was pretty much an avowed atheist and used to daydream about someone stepping up and proving that the Bible was a fake book meant to deceive people. Thing is, I could picture people like Mrs. G and her family as well as my friend Emily still believing and continuing to worship God even after and I think God used that to show me that there was something there that I wasn’t seeing. I also unfortunately had a run-in or two with people who tried to aggressively “win my soul to Christ” which made me more determined *NOT* to believe.
[+] The summer before 5th grade, my friend Emily invited me to go to camp with her church at Camp Hammer. I went with her and enjoyed myself. We studied the story of Joseph and his brothers from Genesis, memorized Scripture, enjoyed ourselves, etc. One of the counselors talked me into inviting Christ into my heart which I did because I wanted to please her. It didn’t totally stick because I went back to my regular life after camp but the seed didn’t completely die but instead stayed dormant until I hit middle school.
When I hit middle school, something in me wanted more. I started praying the Lord’s Prayer as kind of a “covering my bases” situation so that if this Jesus stuff was true, I might not be risking a trip to Hell. (I didn’t know it at the time, but I was totally living out Pascal’s Wager.) I also tried to teach myself as much as I could about Christianity. Mrs. G and her husband told me that they would totally take me to church if I wanted but I didn’t accept because I was completely afraid that people would find out that my parents weren’t religious and give me a hard time for not converting them.
When I hit eighth grade, the depression started in and it got worse when I hit high school. Looking back 18 years later, I can see how completely ill I was mentally and emotionally. I started thinking about death and probably wouldn’t be here today if God hadn’t finally made Himself real to me in the spring of 1995. On one really bad night (which I don’t talk about even in passworded posts), I ended up giving my life to Christ. After that, I sought to educate myself on Christianity and what people believed, buying out almost the entire section of religious books at my local bookstore. My friend Kyle invited me to church with him and I got involved in the choir there. I became part of a community who loved me because I was Jen and not because my parents were there.
During my freshman year of college, I discovered that I hadn’t been baptized (long story) so I went to the pastor of my college church and asked him if I could be baptized. I expected a lecture and an inquisition on my faith but got the following answer: “How’s a week from Sunday?” I was baptized during Memorial Day weekend of 1999 in a baptismal font (with warm water) by a guy in a Harley Davidson shirt and swim trunks. I’m sure Easter Vigil baptisms at a Catholic church are prettier but this worked.
It’s been 18 years since that night in the spring of 1995 and it’s amazing to me now (18 years later) that I’ve been Christian for a longer portion of my life than I was a non-believer. I’m married to a Lutheran pastor and have a degree in Religious Studies because I never quite stopped trying to learn about what people believe. 🙂 It blows people away that I’m a convert because I apparently “talk a good game”. As much as I wish I’d been raised in the faith, I think my background gives me an advantage because I can talk to people about faith things and do so knowing how not to completely screw it up. I can also look at the last 18 years and see the things I’ve been able to do because I chose to say “yes” that night. I’ve taught Bible studies in medium security prisons, taught Koine Greek to prisoners, held the hands of dying people, preached sermons, sung special music with Jon, had some life-changing conversations, and learned about some fascinating sub-cultures (I am a religious sociologist at heart).
The song “Who Am I” by Casting Crowns describes all of this well:
Yes Lord, I am Yours.
