Her Story: My Testimony

***This post is going to need your imagination, so think deep!***

Imagine: A stage, lit up with two bright lights, each resting on electric blue and lme green stands. They sit on either side of a tall, gray chair with metal legs. The set up rests upon a roughly carpeted stage, sitting in front of a crowd of 7th and 8th graders. The teens are waiting for someone to go up and sit in that chair, and declare the deepest things about their faith to them.

A girl bravely hops to her feet, and climbs the stairs. She settles into the chair between the lights, and looks down upon her peers. Then she sucks in a breath, and begins her story.

"Their are two myths people have about pastors kids." She begins. "One, that we always have perfect faith, never question, never waver from God. Our entire life is devoted to him, and we always believe. We're expected to be one of the first to volunteer/sign up for everything. Two, that we decide to rebel against our mom/dad's decision, and do all sorts of little evil things to pay them back for it.

"Those are just myths," she says, looking down at the crowd. "Just myths. Really, we're like everyone else. How do I know this? Cause I experienced it myself.

"Sixth grade is when it happened. The year my faith wavered so much, it threatened to collapse on me. All the now eighth graders had left the sunday school class, and now the room was filled with solemn fifth grade girls and rowdy fifth grade boys. I'll admit it was different, but it was okay. Anyway, that was the first leg of my wavering faith journey.

"The second came when my friends started critiquing my mom's sermons to me. Not just in front of me, but actually to my face. They'd say things like, "Your mom's sermon was.................interesting." or "Your mom's sermon was kinda boring today, I almost fell asleep." At first, it was just annoying, but then it really started to get to me. Looking back, I can tell I was taking my frustrations out on God.

"That's when I started asking myself, "Does God really exist? Did he really make us? Does he really care? Did he die for me, or for Alexandra?" The questions flew around my brain every time I stepped into the role of the pastor's daughter.

"I felt like I was living a double life. At home and school I was questioning God, my faith, and the faith of others. But the minute I stepped into the church building, I was the girl of unwavering faith, the pastor's daughter.

"I hated it so much I thought I would die. But then came confirmation. A choice I MADE! Anyway, I really wanted to do it, for my mom, for me, for God, and for my teetering faith. So I did. It was rough, wasn't easy, yet it was fun and worth it. But in the last week, my faith began teetering again, and I began to constantly wonder whether I made the right decision.

"Then came the blessing ceremony. My parents read me the most beautiful things, and I began to cry-I wasn't the only one. Tears were pouring out of eyes I couldn't imagine. We hugged, we cried, and we hugged some more. It was beautiful. It was then I realized that God had done this for me. He had shown me different sides of people, showed me the love a group and the love of him.

"So that night, in the backseat of my dad's car, I accepted Christ into my heart. And the next day, I was named a servant of God."

She smiles and sit for a second, cherishing the memory. Then, to thunderous applause, hops down from the chair and goes down the steps. The applause quiets as she takes her seat. The next person rises to her feet, and goes up the steps, ready to share.