How It Started
I gave my life to God in my boyfriend’s basement after a Bible study with his family. We had watched a handful of videos about what brought different people to faith — even one from a member of the band Korn.
When everyone else had moved on with their night, I stayed on my phone watching testimony after testimony, trying to understand what this “moment” was that everyone kept talking about.
Then I clicked on one video that completely broke me open.
A woman shared how she had been ready to end her life, but someone dragged her to church first. There, a stranger who had been crying met her outside and said, “I’m here to pray for you.” That stranger took her hands, spoke things they could have never known, and told her that God was waiting to be the father she had never had. She accepted it — and she said she felt the arms of a Father wrap around her for the first time in her life.
Story after story echoed the same theme:
The love of a Father people didn’t know they were starving for.
My Disconnect
Now, for some backstory. I did grow up in a family that loved me — in their own way. But I was so disconnected from myself and everything around me that I rarely felt any of it. My entire life had been one long autopilot attempt to please the people raising me. Even when someone hugged me, I still felt a world away in my own skin.
So even though I technically had an emotionally available family, I had never been able to feel love.
Listening to all these stories about people finally feeling a Father’s love…I wanted that more than anything.
The Moment I Chose God
Eventually, I turned to my boyfriend and asked what I was supposed to do.
He shrugged and said, “You pray and you make the choice.”
“That doesn’t feel good enough,” I said.
He laughed gently. “It really is that simple. Say it out loud if you need to. Declare it.”
So I prayed. And immediately, I started to cry. I told God I was tired of living afraid. I begged Him to fill me with His Spirit, to strengthen me, to help me finally feel safe in this world.
I cried so hard I made my boyfriend tear up.
No heavens opened for me. I didn’t feel arms wrap around me like some people describe.
But inside me, for the first time ever, there was silence.
And for someone who had lived in constant inner chaos, that silence felt miraculous.
Learning to Walk With Him
It took time before I could say I had true control over the anxiety that had followed me my whole life, but God guided me through it. Sitting with my Bible and journal, I could feel His presence with me. When I got quiet enough, I could hear Him too — gentle, steady, patient.
He taught me how to pray.
He helped me take back my mental health.
He showed me what being His child meant.
Some people point to the moment I ended up in a mental health ward for two weeks as proof that I wasn’t actually growing.
But I see it differently.
It took strength — His strength — to admit that I couldn’t stay safe in my own hands. I remember shaking with emotional pain, barely able to breathe without breaking down, trying everything I could in prayer and on my own. When I finally went in for help, I know He was the one holding me up.
My Break… and My Return
I’ll openly admit I took a break from Him for a few months afterward. I stopped praying, stopped reading my Bible, stopped talking to Him completely. I needed to know whether my faith was truly mine, or if it had been shaped by pleasing others.
I tried other forms of spirituality.
But looking back, I can see His fingerprints on every moment.
There were breakdowns where I know He protected me, especially when I couldn’t bring myself to return to the hospital a second time. And eventually, I noticed something:
I was fighting to stay away from Him.
I was ignoring the itch to pray.
I was resisting the pull of Scripture.
That’s when I finally had to admit that my faith wasn’t people-pleasing.
It was mine.
I bought myself a new Bible and a journal, and the moment I sat down to pray again, He was right there, like I had never left. He understood my fear. He understood my pain. And He let me wander until I was ready to come home.
What I Believe Now
I know this may upset some people. Everyone has a different idea of how God works. Some don’t believe in Him at all, and some have been wounded by people who claim to follow Him.
I’m not here to preach or argue.
I’m here to share my story — and I’ll keep sharing the things I experience with Him.
Because I want to show the simple beauty of having a relationship with God, and I fear that too often, that gets buried under doctrine and debates.
Faith doesn’t have to be complicated.
If you’re curious, stick around. I’ll tell more stories.
Let’s Tell Your Story Together
If you’ve felt the pull to share your testimony but don’t know where to begin, I can help.
I can either coach you through writing it, or I can write it for you as your ghostwriter. Let’s bring your story to life together.
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