I have been a Christian for seventeen years, in other words: all my life. My mom got saved when she was young, and so were my relatives. I grew up in a loving, Christian home, (with a lost, distant father, sure, but that didn’t matter) and I went to church every Sunday with my mom. Sunday school was fun, and at the age of six I attended the church’s school. I grew up with weekly Bible verses and morning-prayers and I was taught that God does miracles and heals the sick, and I was taught that God loves every single person in this world. When I was around ten years old I began to get tired of it all, due to lack of evidence of everything I’ve been taught.
When I was twelve years I switched over to a Non-Christian school and I continued being sick of God. I was healed during this period of time from a disease causing me not to grow. For some reason this didn’t affect my Christian life and I lived on with my bitterness.
One day, a Saturday, three years later, at the age of fifteen, my mom went to a church located in another city, half an hour from were we lived. I don’t really know what happened that day, but my mom came home completely changed and began to watch GodTv. I was still mad at God, so the GodTv-watching bothered me, even though I told her it didn’t. The next day she more of less forced me to the church, which I’m today really thankful for. This church was different from any other I had attend. During the Worship people were crying, and they continued crying as they bowed in front of the golden cross that was placed at the front. I remember my mom’s tearstained face looking at me as she was mimicking the words: “Can’t you feel it?” I shook my head. Feel what? God’s presence. As I looked around, I realized I was the only one not feeling it, and it bothered me more than I dared to admit.
After the sermon, mom and I went to this man who had a weekly prayer-group meeting that day’s place. That’s where I met David. A beloved brother in Christ and one of the most intelligent persons I know. Do I even need to tell you I admired him? However, as we were there, during prayer and worship, everybody, except me, began to act strange. Some started to laugh and some were crying. They were either jumping around or laying on the floor. God’s presence was there, and again, I was the only one not feeling it.
After this, I, too, watched GodTv, and I cried each and every time someone was healed. We continued going to the prayer-group meetings and this continued to happen. It was the first time I’d seen people being touched by the Holy Spirit in real life. I remember one night very specifically because that time I saw someone being healed, for real, for the first time. Ironically, I was the one laying hands on her. One of her legs were shorter than the other causing her to have back-pain. It grew out before my very eyes. Instead of being happy or thanking God, as everyone else were doing, I ran out of there crying.
Understand this, dear readers, I had been mad at God for years, thinking he’s not who everybody said he is, if he even existed at all. Although, that night, I had all the evidence I needed. Even though it wasn’t the biggest miracle, it was enough. He was real. He is real. Everything I had been taught growing up, everything people had told me, everything, it was real. I remember feeling… relieved. For the first time I knew that whatever happened to me, he was there and he would take care of it. I was safe.
Love, Sara
Little Pocket Journal 