Cut To The Chase

I'm a firm believer that a person's testimony is not their story but rather it's God's story.  Our lives are not our own and we're here to be vessels for the Lord. As much as I wish I could say that I wrote my life story, I would not be giving credit to the proper author. Let's be serious, God's a much better writer than I ever will be.
As I said before, the best way to get to know me is to just dive in.
I figured there was no better way to do this than to tell you my testimony. Because you see, I wasn't always this girl who sought after the heart of God. I didn't even really start out as a Christian. I was a pretty broken person who did some pretty stupid things. I was a good kid growing up and I had a loving family that enforced Christian morals, but I didn't know what it was to know God. Jesus was the man hanging on the crucifix in my hallway. I had no clue what it meant to have a personal relationship with Him or even understand the extent He went through for silly old me. I was blind.
I had grown up a happy girl, unintended teacher's pet, book nerd, artsy chick, and complete band geek. My life was pretty normal up until high school. Once freshman year of high school hit, the world opened up to me and I had a new set of eyes with a whole array of options to choose from. Unfortunately for me, I chose a long and emotionally distorted relationship which led me to have skewed views of Christianity and God. Once I managed my way out of that relationship and back onto my own two feet, I was attempting to figure out who I was and figure out who God was. I had gotten so wrapped up in this guy, I had no idea where my identity even stood anymore. I started attending FCA with my best friend, who we'll call Lloyd for identity purposes, and things started to make sense again. That was up until I hit the wall at the end of my junior year.
While sitting in a practice room one day, my best friend confided in me about his new set of beliefs. Lloyd and I had known each other for almost 15 years and the only set of beliefs that he ever had was a belief in God. However, his mind was changed and he now believed in nothing. Nothing. Such an empty word. Such an empty feeling. His questioning of faith drove me to question my own faith. Did I really believe in nothing too?
It wasn't until senior year did I really have a major crisis of faith. Around the end of October I came down with a severe case of mono and was out of school for almost two months. At least, this is what I always told people. I really did have mono but that wasn't the only thing I was suffering from. In reality, I had collapsed on the floor of my kitchen in pain and was rushed to the hospital. Within a few days I found myself at a specialist being told that I have something called Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, PCOS for short. PCOS is a disease that plays the role of the highest cause of infertility in women. It affects the function of female organs and targets the chemicals in the body, often producing too much insulin and androgens, causing significant changes in the body including; appearance, heart and blood vessels, menstrual cycle, weight gain, depression, cystic ovaries, and the ability to have children.
The ability to have children. That was the only line that stuck with me throughout the entire appointment. I didn't care about the medicine, I didn't care about the lifestyle change, all I cared about was the fact that I couldn't have children. My entire life all I had ever wanted was to be a mother and I felt like God was taking that away from me. November 11th, 2008  would mark the day that I would stop talking to God.
I began using feminism as a means to cope with my new illness. I began working at "Skirt! Magazine" in hopes to make people aware of this incurable illness. The more I worked there, the more I began realizing the issues women face in society and I slowly became obsessed with the constant need to have the same rights as men. I would write about people in my blog, people I knew, men I knew, and how much wrong they did to women. I wrote to the point of getting angry emails from people, insults and hate mail in my inbox everyday. The more hate I got from the public, the more I wanted to write about them.
By the time I reached college, my view on life was incredibly messed up. I had gone through various treatments at this point to try to stop the pain from my PCOS, but nothing could be found that worked. I had sunk into a deep depression and still continued to write hateful things against and about men.
This was the case until one day I had discovered that Lloyd, who also came to the same college as I did, began doing drugs, abusing alcohol, and having sex. I was no saint myself, but I was in shock at this kind of behavior. As I returned to my room that night, my roommate suggested that I pray. I hadn't talked to God in almost a year. Not a single word went to Him in over a year, and I'm not about to just ask for His help when I need it, isn't that a sign of weakness?
But I gave in and on the floor of my closet, I asked God for one thing and one thing only, a sign that He was with me. I didn't get my sign that night.
The next night, I had a PCOS attack on the back steps of my dorm. I began crying out of pain and with the lack of mobility I had, I really had no where to go. As I stood there crying, this random boy came up to me with a broken bicycle, asking if I was okay. As we talked, we discovered that we were both music majors and lived only a floor apart from each other. He offered to take me inside and talk me through what I was going through. I agreed to go with him and to this complete stranger, I told my entire life story. And in return, he led me to Christ. On November 3rd of 2009, I devoted my life to Christ and accepted Jesus as my personal savior. This kid's name is Nate and he will continue to hold a very important role in my walk with Christ.
After I devoted my life to Christ that night, Nate asked me what it was that I asked God the night before. I looked at him and said, "all I wanted was a sign." Nate paused for a moment, tears filling his eyes and said, "Tonight, I left my entire group of friends due to their drinking, drugs, and promiscuous sex. I left them and went to the library and just sat there praying. I asked for a sign too. He gave me you."
And with that, Nate and I had become best friends and each other's signs.
Now the story doesn't come close to ending here. After a year of struggling with my feminist views, I eventually gave them up and decided it was time to lead the life of a Godly woman. I suffered through depression which had a great toll on my walk with Christ, but He never left me behind once. I started making new friends, Christian friends. I joined a church and a campus ministry and got involved in a Bible study. Most importantly, I finally understood what it meant to have a personal relationship with Christ. I knew what He suffered through for me and this realization shook me to the bone.
Although, all these things were happening in my life, there was still a part of me that did not give to Christ. I feared with every fiber in me to give my health to God.
I had gone through at least seven medical treatments and three doctors and no one was ever able to find a treatment that worked for me. I was scared, I was in pain, and I refused to give it to God.
Until one night in 2010, I found myself lying in a hospital bed due to pain that had become so unbearable, I could barely function. After hours of exams and testing, no one could figure out was wrong. PCOS should not be causing this much pain, no matter how far along the patient is. I had been internally bleeding for a couple of days now and there seemed to be no end to the confusion and misery. That night, the doctor stated that the amount of internal bleeding I had was equivalent to that of someone who has had a miscarriage. I was lucky I came in when I did.
But lucky wasn't the proper word, blessed was much more appropriate. Because this was the night that I realized that God was with me and I could have had a much closer call than I already did. That night, I laid down my health at the foot of the cross and told Jesus that it was not something that I could carry on my own anymore.
Within two months, I had an official diagnosis. I had Endometriosis and the combination of the PCOS and Endometriosis had caused a worse case scenario for my body. With every treatment we found for one of the illnesses, it made the other one worse and vice versa. That was until June of 2011 when my new doctor finally found a combination of medicine that treated both PCOS and Endometriosis with no severe side effects from either of the illnesses.
A combination of 5 medications and a monthly injection.
By the end of summer, I had been pulled out of my depression, I rarely ever faced pain, and my body started to regain it's strength and stability. And although, I can't say that I'm completely cured, I can say that I've regained a somewhat normal life again. This would have not at all been possible if it weren't for the amazing grace, forgiveness, and healing of our Lord. You see, I believe in miracles and healing. I believe that you can be disgusting, dirty, and shameful, and can still clean up pretty nicely. I believe in forgiveness and love. And I believe that no matter how broken my past is, it's only something that was there to glorify God. This life is not my own, this body is not my own, and God had a reason for every pain I felt, every tear I cried, and every awful thing that I did wrong. Because in reality, I was trying far too hard to get by on my own, instead of turning to God to help carry me. We are His children, and He's not going to ever leave us. There is no end to His glory.

These days, I'm just a Christian who happens to be a college student. And just like every typical college student, I still screw up and I still have no clue what I'm doing with my life. I co-lead a 27 person Bible study through CRU and have a passion for young girls. I want them to find their identity and their value not in men or in society, but in God. I plan on pursuing a degree in library sciences, although I know I'm being called to be on staff with CRU. Nate is still one of my best friends, along with a loud and sassy girl named Katie, and an old high school friend named Thomas. I'm still artsy, still a band geek, and still a book nerd. I like to pick up junk from the side of the street and create new things out of it and I enjoy thrifting on sunny days. I dropped the feminist title a long time ago, but I'm not afraid to make it known that I'm a woman... a woman of God that is. I can be defined by a lot of titles but my identity is found only in God.

 I'm a broken person and I'm just here to love the broken.