My Christian experience started before I was actually converted. If you've read my previous posts, you would be aware that I grew up in a Christian home. Although it was a bit inconsistent, we had family devotions in the mornings and we, my brothers and I, were encouraged to pray. The first memory I have of praying to God, like a real, gut wrenching, heartfelt prayer, was when I was 15 years old.
My parents had been arguing for days. It was scary to me because it was unfamiliar. I remember crying in my bed because I could hear the shouting, but I couldn't figure out what the problem was. I honestly thought my parents would resort to killing each other. It got so bad one night, my father came into the tiny bedroom that I shared with my brothers and laid down next to me on my bed. It only made sense that he would come to my bed because my brothers shared the tiny top bunk while I slept on the twin sized bottom bunk by myself (and I only took up a small fraction of the space). My mother came into the room screaming. My father took up his jacket and left the apartment for the night.
The next day, as she drove us to the bus stop, my mother asked us who we would want to live with if she and my father separated. I do not recall what my brothers said, but I remember saying that I would want to live with them both. I do not believe she knew what those words did to me; I know that if she knew the effect they would have had, she would not have asked. But they broke my heart.
That morning, as I sat on the school bus, I prayed. For the entire half hour ride, I cried and pleaded with God. I begged Him to allow my family to remain a single family - at least until I was old enough to handle the separation. I'm sure my friends and school mates thought I was having a meltdown and probably needed professional help, but that was the least of my concerns.
I got the answer to this prayer almost immediately. When my parents got home from work that evening, it was as if the past few days were a figment of my imagination. And here's the kicker, my parents did eventually get divorced - but that didn't happen until I was 22 years old. God answers prayers. He took the time to listen to the tearful plea of a 15 year old girl on the insignificant island of Grand Bahama in the tiny country of the Bahamas. Not only did He listen, but He also comforted her. If that wasn't enough, He gave her exactly what she asked for.
I know that God is still in the business of answering prayers. As I grow closer with God, as I spend more time in prayer, as I ask Him for more things, I witness the outpouring of His mercy and kindness. I constantly experience the awesomeness of a God that gives answers to me. If that wasn't enough to convince me, I've also made friends who have similar experiences.
The Bible says that we should pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17) and that if we ask for anything in the name of Jesus, He will do it (John 14:14). He's given us an instruction and he's left us a promise. Do you believe what He says?
My parents had been arguing for days. It was scary to me because it was unfamiliar. I remember crying in my bed because I could hear the shouting, but I couldn't figure out what the problem was. I honestly thought my parents would resort to killing each other. It got so bad one night, my father came into the tiny bedroom that I shared with my brothers and laid down next to me on my bed. It only made sense that he would come to my bed because my brothers shared the tiny top bunk while I slept on the twin sized bottom bunk by myself (and I only took up a small fraction of the space). My mother came into the room screaming. My father took up his jacket and left the apartment for the night.
The next day, as she drove us to the bus stop, my mother asked us who we would want to live with if she and my father separated. I do not recall what my brothers said, but I remember saying that I would want to live with them both. I do not believe she knew what those words did to me; I know that if she knew the effect they would have had, she would not have asked. But they broke my heart.
That morning, as I sat on the school bus, I prayed. For the entire half hour ride, I cried and pleaded with God. I begged Him to allow my family to remain a single family - at least until I was old enough to handle the separation. I'm sure my friends and school mates thought I was having a meltdown and probably needed professional help, but that was the least of my concerns.
I got the answer to this prayer almost immediately. When my parents got home from work that evening, it was as if the past few days were a figment of my imagination. And here's the kicker, my parents did eventually get divorced - but that didn't happen until I was 22 years old. God answers prayers. He took the time to listen to the tearful plea of a 15 year old girl on the insignificant island of Grand Bahama in the tiny country of the Bahamas. Not only did He listen, but He also comforted her. If that wasn't enough, He gave her exactly what she asked for.
I know that God is still in the business of answering prayers. As I grow closer with God, as I spend more time in prayer, as I ask Him for more things, I witness the outpouring of His mercy and kindness. I constantly experience the awesomeness of a God that gives answers to me. If that wasn't enough to convince me, I've also made friends who have similar experiences.
The Bible says that we should pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17) and that if we ask for anything in the name of Jesus, He will do it (John 14:14). He's given us an instruction and he's left us a promise. Do you believe what He says?
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