Salutations Readers

I was hoping to spend more time writing this, but I have to get up early tomorrow, so I'll probably write more later. 

That's probably not true, I'll probably become so encompassed by  writing that I won't care...until I have to wake up tomorrow.

I thought a good way to start this blog would be to tell you a bit about my life. Not just random things like I went to Colene Hoose grade school. Who cares? I want to tell you all how I came to believe what I do. My testimony. 

I grew up in an upper-middle class family. My dad's a doctor, my mom was a nurse (she doesn't practice anymore). My parents raised my older brother, Brian, and myself as Catholics. Brian and I both didn't have a great relationship with our parents or each other from the start. My brother had some problems. I never really understood them; I just knew he was angry a lot. I just found out this past year that he was diagnosed with O.C.D. He had to see a shrink, and he scared me, that's all I knew, so did my parents. I was afraid. A lot.

I don't want to go into too much detail or dwell on this part of my life too much, but I'll try to say what is important. I was always happy at St. Pat's (our Catholic church), but something never felt right. I was going to hell. I knew it at an early age. I felt that I was too horrible for God to love or forgive. Overall, I enjoyed church.

Fast forward to 5th grade on up. I was depressed, but didn't really know it. I was in fifth grade the first time I seriously considered suicide. I wrote a note and everything. Turns out I'm clinically depressed, but I wouldn't find that out until I was in eighth grade. I thought about suicide a lot in the period between that day and when I was started on anti-depressants. Even a few times after. I cut myself in junior high. I drank. I smoke. I swore. I had a lot of good friends who helped me through, but something was always wrong. My home life wasn't great. I didn't consider it anything that could be changed.

Six weeks into my freshman year of high school I got expelled. My best friend for most of my life lived down the street from me at the time. She brought a pocket knife to the bus stop one day and was cutting herself. It upset me, naturally, so I took it from her and lectured her a bit. I was planning on giving the knife to her guidance counselor at school during my free period, but never got the chance. There were two boys at the bus stop who didn't like us very much. They were both a year older than us, but didn't have many friends. I guess they thought it would be funny to get me into some trouble, so they told the asst. principal that I had threatened to stab one of them with it. I was pulled out of first hour German II and escorted to the office. I told them what had happened and explained that it was Cassie's knife and that she was hurting herself. They called Cassie in, and she was really mad that I had told them she cut herself, so she admitted the knife was hers, but wouldn't back up my story. It was the word of the guys verses my word. I was outnumbered. They even got a boy from the next bus stop over to go along with them. They changed their story when I pointed out he wasn't even there. It didn't matter. I was suspended for two weeks followed by an expulsion hearing. I was expelled. We tried to get me into the local Catholic high school, but that didn't work because of rules. My dad found Cornerstone Christian Academy, a tiny little school, on the internet, and I visited and interviewed. They weren't what I wanted, but by this point I had been out of school for almost two months and was desperate. They graciously accepted me. 

I hated Cornerstone. To make matters worse, none of my friends were mad at Cassie for lying. They were still friends with her. Cassie started changing. She went from punk on the verge of goth to preppy. Not that I would have cared, I had a ton of preppy friends; it just wasn't her. She and I tried to talk a few times, but nothing was ever resolved. She and I ended our friendship bitterly. It took me two and a half years to get over it. Even worse, my other friends started to drift from me. They wouldn't return my calls, or were always too busy. I was pretty much alone and miserable. 

The summer before my sophomore year I got so drunk that I almost died. After throwing up no less than thirteen times my blood-alcohol level was 1.86. I was fifteen and on Zoloft (you shouldn't mix that with alcohol). I never drank again after that night, but it was mostly because my parents were watching me like a hawk. 

My sophomore year Theology class was a study of Romans. It was really in depth, and was a turning point in my life. It answered so many of the questions. I started talking to a senior in my school who was a bit of a loner. He listened to me, understood, and accepted me. One day I mentioned to him that I had been considering going to Eastview (a large, local, non-denominational church), but every time I tried to ask someone I knew who went there about it, they acted like jerks to me. I had noticed that people at Cornerstone had something I didn't have. At first I thought them all sheltered (which most of them are), and holier-than-thou, but I began to see something different in them. Could it be their relationship with God? I wanted to know. I wanted to know so badly. He invited me to go with him that Sunday, and I did. Between talking to him, and studying Romans, I realized that I had been believing lies. God does love me. I had been trying to earn my salvation, which is why I felt so hopeless. I finally understood that I can't earn salvation or God's love, and that I didn't have to try anymore. Christ did all that for me. Christ lived perfectly and died for me! It was like a lightbulb went off suddenly in my head. I understood. I accepted God in January of my sophomore year. 

Ever since then, I have been living my life for Christ. I'm not claiming that my life is now easy or perfect. It's not. I'm still on anti-depressants, even though I've tried going off them. Life is still hard. Things happen that try my faith on an almost daily basis, but that's what happens in the Christian life. The trials I'm going through, and all the ones in my past can be used to glorify God and draw me closer to him.

 My parents didn't support my going to Eastview. It was the cause of a lot of arguments and bitterness between us. It's gotten a lot better, but it's still not where I'd like it to be. We definitely don't see eye to eye on a lot of things about our faiths, but it doesn't separate us the way it used to. 

Well, that's my testimony in brief. There's a lot more I could say, but it would take forever. If you would like me to expand on any particular part, please just ask. I hope this speaks Truth to someone and helps glorify God, for that is what I'm here to do. If God can use my past and my story to bring one person to Him, then it was all worth it. 

Peace, my friends.