The Christianista

The choice to give my life to Christ was solely up to me, no pressure from anyone. Of course my parents wanted it for me, but they didn’t pressured me. Actually I remember doing something similar, but I was too young to do it for myself.  I remember like it was yesterday, which is rare for me because I forget almost everything unless its traumatic.  My decision had been made well before the altar call, well before the sermon, well before the choir selection and praise and worship, I just knew that that was the day. Little did I know that the  decision was made for me on this certain day way before the thought entered my mind. This decision was already made for me before my parents wanted it for me and  before my birth – according to God.

I remember the sermon ending and my heart racing. By the time the altar call had begun, my hands were sweating. Was it because I was thinking about what others were thinking – probably. I felt ashamed and felt that everyone would know my sins and would judge me. I was very involved in church, my father a deacon and both my parents were directors of  the Children’s Church. I was at church 3 times a week and had Bible study at home with my family. I mean, was I THAT bad  a sinner? I used profanity quite a bit. I had tried alcohol and weed before, but that was only once and I didn’t even inhale. Sure I kissed plenty of boys, but I was still a virgin and  on my way to college soon, so I wasn’t that bad. Actually, I was pretty darn good. I was only suspended once in school and was only out a few days because I had near perfect grades. I was Homecoming Queen which showed how nice I was to my fellow peers. I worked hard at sports and my track coach told me that ECU wanted to extend a full scholarship to myself and 3 other ladies on my team. The only time I skipped school was to get food. My teachers loved me, especially my bio teacher who helped me get invited to the State Science fair. As a matter of fact because I was such a “good student” I held drugs for one of my “cousins” because no one would ever suspect me.  Of course I went to college parties already and drove when my parents had no idea that I had started driving so early, but I was with my older cousin so I was safe. As long as I made great grades, stayed involved in church, and stayed involved in school what harm could I do? I was like the model teen……..on the outside, but in the inside something wasn’t right. I felt such a heavy burden – I wasn’t right with God. As I raised my hand to confess that I needed Christ in my life, it was like my arm weighed 50 pounds. I felt this feeling many times at church but suppressed it because I didn’t want people to think of me as a hypocrite. This time I felt courage that I had never felt before. When I finally stood up to walk down to the altar, the lump in my throat grew so big that it exploded, the tears  falling down my cheeks were the only evidence. I didn’t understand why I was crying.

The walk to the altar seemed to take 10 minutes and I could feel the heat from peoples stares and the moisture from my arm pits trying to leave stains on my shirt. As I kept walking and getting closer to the altar I started to feel weightless like I knew I was walking, but didn’t feel like I was. It was at that point that I thought about God and not myself and my surroundings. I thought about how He gave his Son because he knew we would sin. I thought about how He knew my deepest darkest secrets and thoughts yet He still wanted me. I thought about how He worked miracles in my own family. I thought about how powerful He was. It was just about me and Him on a personal level now, no one else mattered at this point. As I started to focus on Him, my walk to the altar got lighter. Those stares that I felt previously turned into beams of pride. The stillness in the air lessened and sniffles and cries of praise filled the space. Hallelujahs were heard and rejoicings rang out.  I  started to think how lucky I was for being one of the people God chose. With the salty taste of dried tears on my lips and the gift of God’s love in my heart, I started to feel  the burden lift.  I could hear my Dad behind me shouting and crying- he had made his way down to the altar to support me, he has always been my biggest fan. God had already chose me, but this was the day that I chose Him back.

As I look back at my High School days, I realized that there were so many other people with my same path but have found themselves at a different endings. I was the typical teen and  could have easily ended on a different road. I thank Jesus for his grace and mercy because I myself am nothing short of a miracle.

I just wanted to write to say if you are one of the people who hasn’t accepted Christ and  feel that lump in your throat during altar call, lucky you, He is waiting for you to accept His invitation.

love,
the christianista