Seeking God, Part 2

When I left my adolescence and graduated to middle school and the first two years of high school, I was more than made fun of for my faith. Consistently, I was called “God’s daughter” and “Prude” and “Jesus freak” to my embarrassment. (Actually, I proudly wore the last label since that particular DC Talk song was popular at the time.)

I was left out of most secular social activities. I was mocked behind my back and to my face—in the youth group and at school. And even got plenty of criticism from church members.

I was one hurt little girl—not understanding how my Protector could not protect me. So I waned in spending any time with God—feeling as though He had nearly abandoned me and was even allowing the torture to take place.

In my heart, I loved Him like I loved my family. But, in my flesh, my resentment grew and bubbled up inside of me until it erupted my sophomore year of high school. My parents didn’t know it at the time and neither did I, but I began slowly spiraling downward and out of control.

I was sick of being a Christian. I was sick of the mockery. I was sick of the judgment. I was tired of being the rug others wiped their feet on. The church and God both became my enemies. I thought he could give me popularity, peace, and happiness in my situation, but He hadn’t. I was angry.

Sometime during the summer between my junior and senior years in high school, I snapped. My parents didn’t know what happened to me—and I couldn’t explain it either. I think it was a combination of things—a broken heart (brought on by a bad breakup with my first boyfriend), critical Christians, my weakened faith, and my desire to finally fit in for once in my life.

I began running with the wrong crowd, attending all the hottest parties, doing things I said I never would, breaking curfew, lying to my parents, acting out in public—you name it and I did it. Needless to say, my desire to have a deeper relationship and understanding of God wilted altogether and my popularity flourished, as did the sin in my life.

For the next two years, involved in a dangerous relationship with a guy, living the life I chose, and feeling miserable and empty inside, I ran as fast and as hard as I could from God and anything holy. It was the darkest time in my life.

The popularity I’d desired for so long was extremely short-lived and came at a devastatingly high price. I had turned my back on God and embraced the way of the world, and it was time to pay up. My actions came with severe consequences—ones that caused me crash and burn, and finally left me on my face before him begging for mercy.

Stay tuned for Part 3 …