Editor's Note:

"My Testimony" was written by a very good friend of mine, Kaye, who is also a therapist. We met in college where I followed her around and tried to sit by her because she made better grades than I did! Her story has always been such a blessing to me and her faith an encouragement. I hope you enjoy reading her testimony as much as I have enjoyed watching her live it! If you want to contact her click here and send her your email and I’ll be sure she gets your message.

Thanks,
Lillian

My Testimony

I was born to a Southern Baptist mother from West Texas and a Jewish father from Virginia, and raised in the Presbyterian Church.  So religion was always a provocative topic in our home. Although Dad did not practice Judaism or teach it to us,  he debated with Mother and me from the time I knew the difference. 

The great debates with me did not really start until I became a teenager. But when I was 14 I knew I had to take a stand for Jesus - and for myself and my mother - and I was sprinkled in the tradition of the Presbyterian Church. 

When I fell in love with my husband-to-be, I was thrilled that he was a Christian and that he agreed we should raise our family in church, teaching our children to love Jesus.  The fact that he was raised Catholic did not seem important at all because our belief in Jesus as the Son of God and our Savior was the same.  I couldn’t understand how anything else could matter.  Our difficulty was finding a place to worship in which we both felt comfortable, and that took about ten years!

I started going to church after our son was born, even though my husband was not interested at that time.  It was very frustrating, and I found myself repeating to my husband the Sunday morning arguments that I had witnessed between my parents as a child.  However, this was particularly disappointing because I had thought my marriage would be different since I married a Christian. 

I began attending women’s Bible studies, and the seeds of faith that had been planted by my mother slowly began to sprout. God opened my eyes so I was able to see that winning my husband’s confidence in corporate worship would depend on God’s working in my husband’s heart - not me.  The most I could contribute would be to demonstrate love, patience, encouragement, support, and faith that God would, in deed, lead us to the right church at the appropriate time.  Once I accepted this principal of faith, I was able to be remarkably relaxed, happy, and patient (most of the time).  I realized that my mother’s way of reacting angrily toward my father’s opposition and ridicule only pushed him away.  I prayed that God would give me a loving heart with a sweet, encouraging spirit so my husband would know that “church” would bring us closer together and make our marriage even richer.

After about 10 years of marriage, we found a nondenominational church we could both accept and finally began worshipping together.  I felt a huge relief that my prayers were being answered.  Then, in 1982, we moved to a much smaller town, so that my husband could achieve a dream of owning his own business and we could get our children out of the materialistic, status-conscious rat race of the big city.  We bought 15 acres five miles out of town.  I thought I would grow my own vegetables, learn to can and quilt, and life would be simple and idyllic.  What I didn’t expect was that the peace and quiet of country life would nearly drive me crazy!

I call our five years there my “wilderness experience.”  I was both tortured and blessed during this wrenching time.  Now, from the other side of that experience, I can see that God had His hand on me - and my family - the whole time.  By His grace, my marriage, my children and I were made stronger for it, when it could have just as easily destroyed us.  Our saving grace was the church family we found there where we were loved, accepted, nurtured, and fed with the Holy Spirit in a way that I can’t imagine happening again.  My husband and I both rededicated ourselves to Jesus and all four of us were baptized by immersion.  We became a family bound together in Christ and, for the first time, I really understood what it was like to feel confident in my faith.

But it wasn’t all that easy!  Strangely, simultaneously, with all this joyful blessing, I was also miserable.  How could this be?  It was very confusing to be growing so strong in the Spirit while struggling so in the flesh.  Now I know that I was suffering from “masked depression” and a sort of identity crisis.  I didn’t fit in with my country neighbors.  And, while I found wonderful friendships in and out of church (mostly with others not originally from that area), I just didn’t know what to do with my life.

My husband was happily succeeding in his business ventures and didn’t really know that I was so unhappy.  Frankly, I was ashamed of my feelings that I hid them from him (and everyone else)  most of the time.  It was so foolish not to ask my church friends for help because I know they would have been there to help me work through it.  But my childhood experiences of protecting my beliefs made it too threatening to risk being told that perhaps I didn’t know what I was talking about.  Maybe they’d say my beliefs were unfounded because I wasn’t happy and confident.  Or maybe they’d say that God wasn’t real or else my life would be perfect.  However, my church family would not have said that.  My father might have, though!

Regardless of my weakness, doubts and fears, God was faithful and, like the Footprints in the Sand He carried me through this difficult time.  We sold our country house and rented a house in town.  I registered to take a couple of classes at the new community college (I had not even known they were building it!).  Then my husband decided to sell his part of his business and we moved to a larger town to start over.  Why there?  We just did!  Or maybe it was a God thing!

I loved going to school.  I had always regretted not going to college and I loved learning.  I also loved the intellectual stimulation.  I continued going to school and, before I realized it, I was on my way to earning a degree in Psychology, and then a Masters.  It just happened so smoothly, like it was meant to be.  And I can honestly say I believe it was God’s plan all along that I become a psychotherapist.  I just had a great deal of growing and refining to do before I could be of real use to Him the way He wanted me to be. 

Am I accomplishing His plan?  Did I already accomplish the main thing He needed me to do?  Is the real thing still ahead?  I really don’t know.  I do have complete faith (and a peace beyond all understanding) that I am where He wants me to be, doing what He wants me to do, at least for now.  And that I could not have gotten here without my five years in the wilderness!

As for our family going to church together - yes we do!  Maybe I would prefer that my husband could be more involved and excited about church activities than he is, but I know that’s ME, not him.  He is also in God’s hands and I know I have to let God take care of my husband the way He wants, not my way!  And there is still room for growth in my life there!