FireQuill Publications
The
Short Stories, Plays and Bible Studies of Kathy Kearney
The
Short Stories, Plays and Bible Studies of Kathy Kearney
Your Subtitle text
What I Believe
WHAT I BELIEVE
My Testimony
By: Kathy Kearney
My Testimony
By: Kathy Kearney
Kathy at 17
I believe that God exists. I believe in heaven and I believe in hell. I believe that He sent His only begotten Son, Jesus, to earth to explain His Father's great love through His teachings and by dying for our sins on Calvary's cross.
I didn't always believe this. When I was seventeen, I went off to college filled with great expectations. I had a scholarship, an apartment, my best friend as a roommate, and a world before me filled with an unbeatable future of success and happiness. (Boy, I really was seventeen, wasn't I?)
My upbringing had not been in any particular faith, I went to Sunday School and church with my Protestant grandfather, and in high school attended mass with my Roman Catholic grandmother. My happiest Sundays were when I got out of going to church altogether, stayed home, read the Sunday comics and went to the afternoon movies with school friends. I gave little thought to God. To me, He was a million miles away, and couldn't be bothered with my little life.
Boy, was I wrong! Wonderfully wrong!
The night before the first day of classes, I could hardly sleep. Next morning, it wasn't excitement that woke me, but a deep yawning depression.
The first day of college, the day I had looked forward to for so long, was the most horrible day I ever experienced.
My roommate thought it was homesickness. But each passing day became more miserable than the previous. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and lost a ton of weight. Classes were hour-long miseries in which any attempt to focus on the professors' lectures was futile. Homework? Forget it. I just sat in a chair and stared. Poor Linda, she told my parents she thought I was having a nervous breakdown.
In high school I had been the life of every party. I loved people and fun. My family life was wonderful. Our home was filled with love, humor and laughter. Who was this poor pathetic creature that sat and stared, lost in some world of terror? No wonder my friend was scared.
Trips home on weekends didn't alleviate the depression. I wanted to die. I thought a lot about suicide.
One Sunday, friends of mine took me out for dinner. Afterwards we drove through the beautiful mountains surrounding Pasadena. A storm was crossing the face of the slopes, and the clouds threw a blanket of green-gray across the valley below.
I remember looking out the car window at that awesome panorama and thinking that there must be a God, and if there was, could He know the misery I felt? Did He care that I wanted to die? It was then I had a great thought; I would begin to search for God and if I found Him, I would devote my life to Him. I felt strangely comforted and warmed by my resolution. It was the first shred of hope I had had in weeks.
The following Monday after class, I went to the campus library, checked out books on religion and began reading. I never knew so many books about God and how to find Him existed. The stacks seemed to stretch endlessly before me. Somewhere, somewhere He was here.
For days I read. Since I've always been an avid reader, it didn't take me long to plow through a number of books. But no light came on, nor did any overwhelming sensation of peace and joy bathe me with the assurance that my search was over.
I tried praying. But it seemed that my prayers rose no higher than my confused mind. One thing, however, was becoming clarified in my thinking; there seemed to be some barrier between God and me. I felt unclean in His presence. I promised Him I would improve my life and not do the things I knew were wrong. But my resolves fell back to earth, as though God disdainfully kicked them aside as fast as I sent them up.
Desperate, I checked out a Bible from the library and took it upstairs to the reading room. I didn't know where to begin, so I started in Romans. After reading the first chapter, I knew what my problem was.
It was raining when I left for the bus stop. Yet the darkness of that late afternoon storm wasn't as dark as the storm raging in my soul. My knees were trembling with each step. I was a sinner! I knew that now. And I was headed for eternal separation from an angry God. There was no hope for me. Even suicide was no longer an option, it meant an eternity of feeling my present agony.
How could I bridge the gap that lay between me and the God I wanted to know?
I continued reading the Bible, even though it frightened me. Maybe I might come across something that would tell me what I could do to be acceptable to God. But it just held up an impossible standard of holiness that increased my misery even more.
At the end of October, I went home for a weekend visit. It was then I came across a sports jacket I had borrowed from the Methodist minister's son for a skit my drama class performed at a school assembly.
Reverend Meier was a small gracious man. He and his family had moved to Needles during my senior year. His daughter, Pat, was in my class. His son, Paul, attended college back east. I was a frequent guest in their home. The parsonage was a big old drafty barn of a place. The furniture was early Salvation Army. But the atmosphere was one of unconditional love and fun. Although, I didn't attend their church, I was as welcome in their home as any member.
I blithely side stepped all attempts by Pat or her father to talk about spiritual things. That was the only time I felt like an outsider. Now I know it wasn't them that made me feel this way. I was an outsider. They were Christians, I was not.
I took the coat over to the Meier's before I left to come back to school. It was a Sunday afternoon. They welcomed me, seemed excited to see me. They asked if I had heard from Pat. Yes, I told them, I had. Reverend Meier talked about how Pat had renewed her commitment to God and rediscovered His wonderful love. (Before graduation, Pat had apologized for not being a faithful follower of Christ during our friendship. I was stunned! Pat was one of the best people I knew, but I also closed the conversation. It made me too uncomfortable.)
Hearing her father refer to God's love and Pat, I burst into tears. Mrs. Meier reached over and took my hand, "Why, Kathy, what's wrong?"
"Do you think I could know God's love like Pat?" I sobbed.
Reverend Meier smiled, "Kathy, He's longing to give you that love."
He reached for his Bible, and quietly pointed out the verses about how Christ came to earth, lived among us, and then at the end of that ministry, He died for our sins. As he opened to those verses He asked me to read them aloud.
"Kathy, you need to know Jesus. He's knocking at the door of your heart and wants to come in and forgive your sins, and rule in your life and one day take you to heaven."
"But I've been such a horrible person," I wept. "How can God forgive me."
"Kathy," he continued gently. "There isn't one sin in the catalog of sins that Jesus didn't die for. You don't need to tell me what sins you've committed, just tell the Lord in the quietness of your heart. We're all sinners, we're born that way. But God loved us so much He sent His son to pay the price for our sins. God's love is so great that if you were the only sinner on earth, and everyone was OK, God still would have sent Jesus to the cross for you. Would you like us to pray with you?"
Would a drowning person like to be rescued? "Yes," I answered.
That afternoon, in that humble barn of a parsonage, I knelt between this good man and woman, and asked Christ in to my heart."
I am fifty-nine now. Many would say that at seventeen, I wasn't able to truly appreciate the scope of such a decision, or that I might have benefited from professional counseling. But, as I said, I'm fifty-nine, and I believe just as deeply today as I did on that day forty two years ago.
Christ has seen me through cancer the loss of our home and business, raising kids, tough times, and lots of other events. And I have had real joy too, even in the midst of those storms. I enjoy the love of a fine man; our children love and serve God. I deserve nothing I have, and I did nothing to merit such blessings.
I love Him more today than I did that day forty-two years ago. Yet, He loves me as much now as He did that day forty-two years ago, and even before that. That's the difference (well, one difference) between God and people. His love never changes; ours has to grow.
Maybe you feel as lost as I once did. You feel lost because you are, if you don't know Jesus. But that can be quickly remedied. And while it's easy for us to accept this remedy, it cost Christ everything.
John 3: 16 says, "For God loved the world so much, that He gave His only begotten Son, and whoever believes in Him will not perish, but have everlasting life." So simple a child can figure it out.
Maybe you're older than 17, maybe younger. Maybe you've had a life of real immorality, maybe you've been pretty good—gone to church, tried to do good things—it doesn't matter. We're all sinners who need to be saved. It's not so much about what we've done, but who we are. We have a sin nature, that's why we sin. Don't believe me? If you're a parent have you had to teach your kids how to lie, or hurt someone, or disobey authority? Boy, I never did! Mine came fully equipped with ready-to-roll sin natures. They were just like their mom; sinners. My theology? No way! It's what God says in Romans 3: 23 (and quite a few other places too): "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." The words "fall short" is a word picture of an archer missing the target. Doesn't matter if his arrow was a hair off center, he missed! All have sinned from you, to me, to the man who lives on Do-Good street.
Maybe you think your sins are so horrible that God will close the door in your face when you come calling on Him. John 6: 37 says, ". . .the one who comes to me I will certainly not cast out." Good news? You bet! And here's some more good news, Christ came to find you. While you've been doing your own thing, He's been calling out for you and waiting and longing for the day when you will come to Him. Find that hard to believe?
Check out the story of the woman at the well in John 4. This gal was a prostitute and an adulteress. Her reputation was so shot, that when she needed water, she visited the town well after all the decent folks drew water and left. You see, no one would socialize with her. Yet, in verse 4, we read that Christ had to pass through Samaria.
Geographically speaking, Christ could have taken easier ways to get to Galilee. In fact, most smart people avoided that road like the plague because it was a major stomping ground for bandits and murderers. But that little word, had, refers to who, not where. Christ went to seek out that woman and reveal Himself to her as the Son of God. He looked for her. He found her. He saved her. Read it, please. It's a wonderful story.
So, we're sinners and God sent His Son die for us, and His Son looks for us, offering us all His great love. Next question-what's your answer to His call to come to Him? It's up to you. God won't force you, He gave us all free will. Only you can say yes or no. But remember, it's an answer you will live with forever, in either hell or heaven.
Email: FireQuill@cox.net
