I was born into a close knit church community, and spent my first ten years attending church and Christian schools. But God was never talked about at home. I knew the rules and commandments. I knew the Lord's Prayer forwards and backwards. I could recite many psalms and hymns. But I still didn't know who God was. When my family left the church, we didn't just leave the church behind. We no longer prayed, read the Bible, or even talked about God. We quickly adjusted to our new lives, leaving our faith behind us. We turned our backs on God, and embraced the appeal the world seemed to offer.
As a teenager I rebelled greatly, against my parents, against life, and against the God I kept trying to out run. I couldn’t believe in a God I couldn’t see. I didn't want to be the fool. So much of the world shouted that he didn't exist. Evolution seemed to prove it. But I couldn't shake the feeling I had deep down inside of me that just maybe there was something to this whole God thing. What if God was real? And why couldn't I stop thinking about him?
I couldn't help but pray to a God I couldn't see, and ask him to open my eyes. I wanted to know him, to see him, but I couldn't. I begged for him to open my eyes. And God, it seemed, was silent. But then one day, I was scrolling through Facebook when I noticed my cousin had liked Christianity Explored. My church, the one I had been raised in, was offering a free course about Christianity! Though I was nervous, I felt compelled to find out more. Through the course, I learned about Jesus, who He is, and why He came. I learned what Christianity really was. It was about Jesus. He was the missing link.
That was almost four years ago, when I waited in the parking lot of a church feeling compelled to walk through the doors, but fearing what was inside. Before the course had ended, I knew that God had opened my eyes and brought me home.