When I was told I would have to write a testimony to tell people how I met Christ and how I met Operation Mobilization, I was a little worried. I didn’t have a tear-bringing story of how I came to Christ after a long struggle with drugs or alcohol. It didn’t take complete ruin to realize I have a father who I can depend on for anything. The truth is I have always known Christ. Although my faith life has been like a roller coaster, I have always felt and loved Him. My highs of spirituality were from church trips to Mexico and other places. Mexico always held a special place in my heart. I have always felt a profound love for those people who have so much less, yet so much more. Every trip I came home feeling blessed for what I have, yet shamed for my selfishness. Then one day I met OM through Church when a speaker (Richard Sharp) came, and I talked to him, then checked it out online. I knew that God was calling me to go do work for his name, it was a long process and took about a year to finally get registered and go meet them all at the Outbound Conference. This week was amazing. I met people and can honestly say I loved them after a few days. All the people were so passionate and full of love. After the week I spent amongst them, I knew it was where I belonged. That is my testimony.
At least, that was my testimony until April 12th when I knew God needed me for something more than myself. You have probably heard the story if you are connected to the church, but I will tell it form my point of view. Tim and I were driving most of the day, and by about 7 or 8 in the morning I couldn’t stay awake any longer to keep Tim up, so we let Alex drive to get some much needed sleep. The last stop we went to was McDonalds somewhere in Ohio to eat some breakfast. After we hit the road I was immediately asleep.
The next thing I remember I woke up suddenly when Alex started to swerve, then BOOM! We started to roll and the noise of the crunching metal was louder than most things I have heard, and all I could do was protect my face with my hands. When we stopped rolling, I unbuckled myself. The next few minutes are very vague to me and I may have some things wrong. I remember getting up and praying like a Baptist at a prayer convention along with Alex, and she was dangling from her seatbelt. I think I let her down and immediately exited the vehicle. I was looking for Tim, who had been my friend since kindergarten, and I saw everybody was fine, except him. I was told to sit down by numerous people, so I did. A few minutes (which seemed like hours) I heard Tim screaming and I flipped. I started to cry uncontrollably and felt my heart fall to my toes. I thought I lost him. Of course he is alive and kicking now along with everybody else from the accident. My deepest scars are the emotional trauma. Just a little while ago I was in a fender-bender and I had a panic attack because I remembered the accident.
The accident really was a miracle, and everyone can admit that. All of us are minimally wounded for the circumstances. I look back on it and think to myself “God must have some wonderful things in store for me to spare me from such a tragedy”. This I truly believe, the next step is getting where he wants me to be.
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