Hello, I’m Abby!!
I’m so excited and grateful Samantha and Courtney asked me to be a part of this project because I like Jesus, and I like writing. I love to overuse exclamation marks, ask rhetorical questions, and separate my paragraphs into a max of 2-3 sentences each. (I was a journalism major in college.)
With a faith-based blog, sharing a testimony seems principal. The testimony is the apex of our spiritual (arguably entire) life — when our old self remains no longer and our new self begins.
And yet, it seems so deeply personal that we (I) hesitate to share it. I can count on one hand the people I’ve seen give testimonies who haven’t cried. When God truly takes a hold of your life and spins it on its axis, it’s emotional.
Before I was saved, I took a lot of pride in never crying. Now, sometimes just thinking about the gospel or God’s mercy in my life can make me cry. And I know I’m going to cry while writing this. How the Lord can change us.
I grew up in a Christian home. I gave my life to Christ when I was 9. Did it mean much? Not really. In high school, I did whatever I wanted, what others wanted to see, what I thought would be a good story to tell my kids when I got older. I had no regard for anyone’s feelings. I had no regard for what was right. I had no regard for that commitment I made at the age of 9.
The first year of college my disregard only ran deeper. Out of my parent’s home for the first time, my “zest for life” was intense. What is SO messed up is if question was raised about my faith, I would promptly answer, “yep, I’m a Christian” based off that long-ago dunk in the baptism pool.
I met someone and fell in love. He displayed Christ in a real, tangible way and I felt the need to “get my life together” on a surface level. Sometime later, we broke up.
And that, friends, is when I truly found Christ.
There was no one’s faith left to piggyback on, only anxiety attacks and a life of fear and emptiness. My parents’ faith was now useless. It was only me and my long-since-forsaken God.
In desperation for some kind of sustenance, I started to read the Word with purpose, watch sermons with purpose, read godly books with purpose. Only then did I understand the gospel. God had to bring me to the end of myself so I could realize His depths and wonders.
Even with all of my running, all of my darkness, all of my sin, God was still waiting for me with open arms. (*cue my tears on my keyboard*) I should’ve been dead in my sin 100 times over, 1,000 times over, but His mercy was ever present and His grace never ending.
The beginning of John 8 details a woman caught in adultery about to be stoned. The Pharisees, wanting to trap Jesus in hopes of having a basis for accusation, say, “In the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?”
Jesus answers, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” They drop their stones and leave. Jesus says to the woman, “Neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin.”
This woman has done nothing outstanding. She is not like Esther, or Ruth, or Sarah. She doesn’t teach us a lesson or inspire us in any way. But her life shows the mercy and forgiveness of Jesus, and she emulates me.
Jesus reminds us that we who want to judge are not without sin ourselves. (Take the plank out of your own eye first type deal). But Jesus goes a step further. Jesus, being spotless, had every right to condemn. He had every right to atone for the adultery and throw the rock. But he doesn’t. He shows compassion toward the woman when she should’ve been dead in her sin.
And like that woman, my sin should’ve led to death. But Jesus, with all his righteousness and glory, tells me to “go and sin no more.” And because of that undeserved grace, I have the opportunity to seek God’s kingdom and praise Him forever.
And God has radically changed my life ever since.
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