What’s it like to give your life to God?

How do I know if I’m doing it right?

Is it even possible to do?

These are some of the questions that floated through my mind in the past two years.

Last week I stood up and gave my life to Christ. And while I’d love to jump right into that story, there’s a backstory.

It didn’t happen overnight, and yet it happened night after night. I didn’t wake up one day and know exactly what to do, but I did get a call to wake up and trust that God knows what to do.

This is my personal testimony.


It says in Luke 17:33, “If you cling to your life, you will lose it, and if you let your life go, you will save it.”

I used to live this kind of life where God existed, Jesus set an excellent example, and the Holy Spirit looked like a dove. And I prayed when I needed help.

In complete denial, I lived a sinful life but didn’t see myself as a sinful person. I wasn’t out to hurt anyone, yet people got hurt.

It helped to go to church, but I didn’t always feel like going. When I did go, singing hymns felt uninspiring, so I’d stand there and wait for that part to end.

During prayer I’d ask God how to help me find the missing pieces, fill the empty void, handle the anxiety. I’m not sure I believed He could or would really do it.

I needed God but had no idea just how much I needed God.

In the meantime I lived in and for the world, believing lies, rationalizing greed and compromising values. I didn’t see the crooked path I walked along; I just saw what I wanted to see.

The safest road to hell is the gradual one– the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts.”
— C.S. Lewis

Four years passed. I wanted truth but sought comfort. There was a call for truth and purity in my life, but I didn’t know how to get there. The confusing twist kept me locked and bound, living by my own rules. I asked God to show me what I needed to see.

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