In elementary school I never went to church. It wasn’t that my parents didn’t want me to believe in God—church just wasn’t something we did. I had friends who went to church and sometimes I wondered why we didn’t go, but it didn’t bother me. I had a close friend who went to Eagle Brook; I even went to Bible camp with her one summer. God wasn’t discussed a lot in my house—nothing negative or positive—it just wasn’t brought up.In 6th grade I had another friend who invited me to Ground Zero. I loved it! I felt right at home. One of the first messages I heard was about making church a priority and coming every single week. That’s what I intended to do, and I am so glad that I did. My small group leader, whom I still have today, was phenomenal. My mom, brother and I occasionally came on the weekends, but Wednesday night services was my favorite. Within the first few weeks I knew I was ready to commit my life to following to Jesus.While I did decide I was going to begin a relationship with God in 6th grade, it wasn’t until 7th grade on a retreat that I felt God’s full magnitude.

When I look back I think this is when I truly understood what it meant to have God in my life. My parents divorced when I was in 3rd grade and my dad remarried less than a year later. I was numb during those years and don’t remember a lot except that there were many changes and adjustments. I had learned to accept a new normal. During my freshman year, tensions between me, my dad and stepmom were growing, but I was learning to lean on God. I look back now and think how blessed I was to have had a growing relationship with God during this time. There are many moments I remember crying in the shower or in bed and asking God to help me, to give me peace. Never once did He fail. Sometimes He responded differently than I expected, but I always felt he was with me; I always had hope. By my sophomore year, family tensions reached an all-time high. After a painful incident I made the decision to no longer visit my dad’s home. I no longer felt emotionally safe there. This brought me down a very challenging road.

However, throughout the entire situation, God was standing right by my side.

I was seeing a life coach during this time to help me work through the issues my dad and I were facing and learned a lot of helpful communication strategies. I was seeing my dad occasionally for coffee or lunch, however there were many times when I felt very abandoned by him. I was reminded that God, my Father, will far exceed my biological father—he is all that I need.

I am fortunate that God placed many wonderful friends and role models in my life, two of them being my small group leaders, Kelly and Jen. They have helped me through my many battles. Sometimes, after meeting with my dad, I would feel hopeless and broken. Some days were tougher than others—certain things throughout the week would cause the pain to resurface. Then, I would get a text from one of my leaders or best friends reminding me to pray and that I had a God who loves me and he would give me the strength to keep going.

As I entered my junior year, I hadn’t seen my dad in months and hadn’t spoken much to him either. We had planned to meet in September. I was nervous about this meeting and asked my friends and family to pray for me and for him as we sat down together that afternoon. While talking it became evident that God was working, my dad was listening to me, really listening. I can’t deny God’s work that day. My dad and I recommitted to working on our relationship and I pray before each time we meet. Knowing that God’s strength is within me gives me the courage to keep going and move forward.

My faith story is a growing one—one where I’m on a bumpy road and will continue to face curves, loops and bumps, but will always be able to have God as my navigator. He is my rock and my Savior.

<< View All Stories