My Story by Jana
Where should I start? I guess I’ll start with my parents. My father’s Catholic, my mother was Protestant. I was baptized in the Catholic church. I’d never really felt “Catholic” despite the fact that I went to Catholic church all my young life. Was never involved in Sunday school. Was never confirmed. We went because my father insisted on it. Don’t know why. It was between him and God. Never had anything to do with the family’s salvation as far as I could tell. We went faithfully every Sunday. I think my father was under the impression that God was taking attendance roll every time. If that was the case, we had near perfect attendance.
We’d sit there every Sunday fiddling in the pews, taking communion, kneeling and praying when told to and listening to stories about people and places I could care less about.
Had no idea what the meaning of it all was. It wasn’t all bad though. After church, every Sunday, we’d make our way to China Town to our favorite chinese restaurant. I could sit still for 2 hours in church when I knew chow mein and barbeque pork were in my “not-too-distant” future.
At home, my father never spoke about God or Jesus. However, my mother spoke gleefully of Him. I look back now and realize she was an amazing example of someone who truly followed Christ. However, despite her influence, I always got the impression that God was some far away being. I believed in who God and Jesus claimed to be, never questioned it, but as far as I could tell they weren’t interested in my daily life. I thought they had far more important things to do than being concerned with little ol’ me.
The rigors of church attendance on Sundays bored me to tears as I got older. I made a firm decision to stop going forever as soon as I was allowed to make that decision for myself. It came when I was thirteen. That was a day of celebration. I was true to my word for the next dozen years. Don’t recall setting even a toe in the doorway of a church during that time. However, my spirit was crying out for something, but I didn’t know what.
During those next dozen years, a fascination with the spirit world grew. I was into psychic phenomenon, astral travel (never did try it, though), angels, idols, false gods, reincarnation, crystals, stones, etc. You name it, I was open to it (well almost; anything too dark I stayed away from because it gave me the creeps) because I was being “open” to the universe. Where was my head?! I thought I was being very smart at the time. Little did I know!
In my twenties, I befriended a classmate. We had a lot of the same interests: theatre, museums, shopping, nice restaurants, and so on. We became close and had lots of “girl’s days out” that involved shopping and eating. We suburbanites liked going up to the city. We’d usually go on a Sunday afternoon. I decided one week that I’d like to start off early. No can do, according to my friend, she went to church on Sundays. “What?! On purpose?” I thought. I couldn’t fathom the idea.
We occasionally had spiritual talks and I knew she studied the Bible, but I had no idea that she was a church-goer. She never spoke of it. Or at least I don’t remember any talk of it if she did. Anyway, I soon realized that her church was in the city and she would drive back and forth, the 20 miles that it was, to go to church, come back to pick me up and drive us back up to the city. This was too much! I suggested – to my amazment – that I come to church with her so she wouldn’t have to drive back and forth. She was OK with it as long as I felt comfortable. By this point, I hadn’t been to church in so long that I felt one service isn’t going to freak me out.
So off to church I went one Sunday morning. I remember entering and seeing a beautiful building. People were friendly enough. However, for someone who wasn’t a church-goer, I felt a little out of place, like I didn’t belong. Despite some uneasiness, there was a peace and contentment in my spirit that I noticed immediately. The pastor started the sermon. I thought I’d be turning my attention to something else for the duration of the sermon, but the surprise of all surprises, I “got” what the pastor was talking about.
For the first time in my life, I was being taught how scripture applied to MY life and what it all meant. This was the treasure I had been searching for…and here it was right before my eyes – the Word of God. I was encouraged to come back. I did. That was the true beginning of my life when I finally recognized the spirit of God in His Word. I accepted Christ into my life. My spirit knew THIS to be the truth. I haven’t looked back and God has been holding my hand through this life of mine ever since. All of this came about because of a “girl’s days out”. My friend just being a friend, not preaching, just allowing God to use her as a vessel to get His work done.
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