I have always been a Christian. I was baptized as a baby. I was confirmed at my church. I went to a Christian grade school and high school where I studied the Bible or something of that nature every day. I went to church every Sunday for as long as I can remember. I knew that I was going to be saved.
But there seemed to be something missing.
I was not fully committed to my faith. It was something that I had but never really took into much consideration; it was more like I took it for granted. I went through the steps/motions every Sunday. I knew I believed in Jesus, but at the beginning of my second semester of my freshman year of college, I seemed to fall away.
I would skip church on Sundays to sleep in or do homework. I would go to my church’s campus ministry here at Winona State, but I went just “to be there” and to “tell my mom I went.”
Â
I was not “feeling” my faith anymore.
Â
But then things happened.
Â
My grades were starting to fall and I was slacking off in school. I was feeling more stress and pressure than I ever had before. Relationships with close friends were starting to fade. And then a friend died, causing me to reach my breaking point.
I felt alone. How could a God, especially my God, let this happen to me?! I was upset. I was angry. I didn’t want to believe what was happening.
I tried to keep it in as much as I could because I didn’t want to be a burden to others. I felt like no one was watching over me.
My church back home was going to a Youth Rally at the end of June in Colorado, a place I had always wanted to visit. At the time, I had just finished up my first year of college, so I was still eligible to go.
It was there, in Colorado, that I found my faith again. I guess you could say that it was a miracle. I guess it was all of the people, over 2,500 young adults and adult leaders, singing praise songs and praying together. Or maybe it was seeing one of my friends, someone who I’ve known since daycare, be really into her faith; she lived it in her everyday life and was not afraid to let others know about it.
I know it may sound silly, but it was there that I knew God was watching over me again . . . or rather I realized that He had never stopped watching over me.
So I guess my faith never failed me . . . it just took some hard, difficult situations for me to find it again. My faith was always there; I just didn’t take the time to put any effort into it. And I thank God every day (okay, maybe not every day, but whenever I can) that he was there and never gave up on me like I did on him.