How God reached a 12 year old

[This is an expanded version of a testimony given by an 18 year old in my church that tells how God became real in his life. What is striking is that he is now, after all these years, clearly going on with God; this was a life changing event. I hope it's of interest]

 

This is the final remark in the diary of my then fifteen-year-old sister the day I became a Christian.

22/04/05: ...praise the Lord coz he was with my brother all the way.

My sister showed me the full entry a couple of weeks ago. I consider what happened to me every day, but these words really struck me.

As with a lot cheesy testimonies, the story really starts when I was only a few years old, though I became a Christian when I was twelve. I was not a happy child. We had a variety of troubles at home. Though in retrospect I feel fortunate to have had, and still have, two parents who have a strong marriage, at the time I felt that I was very unfortunate. I didn’t see much of my Dad; I remember sleeping next to my mum, where he usually slept, when he was away. In fact, it’s my earliest memory. But I want to be clear, my Dad is a good man, and he wasn’t entirely responsible for how I was feeling. I was also bullied every day at school. I have very few memories of my primary school, but the majority of what I can remember is not particularly happy. Consequently I spent much of my childhood wrongly presuming that I was unloved. I knew my Mum loved me, but I felt that that didn’t really count for much. As a result of this, I didn’t love myself. While I often came across as arrogant – a weakness that I still suffer today – I hated myself. I would get incredibly angry about the most insignificant occurrences, sometimes culminating in my breaking things. I was probably very scary to live with, and I knew that. This only strengthened me in my convictions that no one loved me.

In 2004 I started high school. For a short while, the bullying stopped. I think everyone was too busy becoming accustomed to everything. After the first term, it started again, and I spiralled into depression. I went to church, reluctantly; my family were all Christians. Before this point I had concluded that if there was a God, I hated Him: I thought that if He existed, He must enjoy watching people suffer. For this reason it makes my actions over the next few weeks an even greater mystery to me: I would lie awake in bed at night considering different ways that I could not only get positive attention from my peers at school, but also ways that God could prove to me that He exists, and that He loves me. I came to the decision that getting hit by a car, and surviving, would kill two birds with one stone, as it were. I remember challenging God, quite flippantly, commanding Him to save my life.

On the night of 21^st April 2005, I once again fantasised about getting hit by a car. However, the daydream I had was far more vivid than the previous ones. I could see everything in immense detail. And for the first time ever I could see cars around me, and an ambulance. It was near a pedestrian crossing: there were people in the uniforms of my school around me; an ambulance was facing the wrong way on the road; there was a blonde haired woman, standing next to a brown haired woman, looking down at me; I was lying on the road, with blood pouring from my head, which was resting upon a white coat; there were two cars at the scene - one was a large green MPV, the other a silver SUV. Ordinarily, only one car would stop, of course - the one that was involved in the collision – so the fact that there were two cars was particularly remarkable to me. Amazing as this was at the time; I quickly fell asleep afterwards, and forgot all about it.

The next morning my vision was a bit like a dream that you can only vaguely remember after you wake up. As usual, I was late to meet my friend Arun, so I walked particularly quickly towards Kingsway to cross. When I arrived at the curb, I saw that there were cars coming towards me, but I decided that I needed to cross if I wanted to avoid a detention. So I started running. First, I dodged a particularly large car – a green MPV - but there are two lanes on Kingsway, it’s a dual carriageway. In the next lane there was a silver SUV. When I saw it, I immediately thought I was going to die. My life didn’t flash before my eyes. It didn’t happen in slow motion like it does in films. All I can remember is seeing that car coming in my direction very quickly indeed.

I cannot describe to you how happy I was when I woke up. It was, however, slightly bittersweet as I was rolling down the road, smacking my already damaged head on the tarmac as I went. I stopped rolling, and stood up. Immediately I felt an intense pain in my lower back, I had probably landed on it when I fell. I shouted in pain, “Argh! My back!” and dropped to the floor. I heard a scream as someone got out of the car that hit me: a blonde-haired woman, called Linda. Directly to the right of me, a brown-haired woman arrived, followed by Linda, my head of year, who had been driving the MPV. They called for an ambulance, which couldn’t come down the road in the right direction: there was far too much stopped traffic, so it ended up arriving the wrong way down the road! My vision had become reality. I began to come to terms with what had happened. I remembered my daydreams and the challenge I had put to God. Immediately I knew He was there, and He’d saved me. 

When I arrived at the hospital, the Doctor described how I was probably hit by the wing-mirror, otherwise I wouldn’t have survived. He also said that had I been hit two inches to the right, in my temple, my skull would have been crushed. On top of all this, he said I must have fainted before I was hit , meaning that had I fainted any earlier, I would have been crushed under the back wheel. If I had fainted later than I did, I would have been crushed under the front wheels. His exact words were (excuse the expletive) ‘You were bloody lucky, mate.’ The precautionary x-ray revealed that I didn’t have any broken or fractured bones. I walked out of the hospital just hours after I went in, bearing superficial injuries; though my older sister said I looked like Frankenstein's monster: I remember watching TV wearing sunglasses for a few weeks afterwards, which I found amusing. I was back at school two weeks afterwards, and when I got there, a crowd circled me, asking me questions about what happened. I got the attention that I craved. No one bullied me for months afterwards.

I think it’s fair to say that no one has every fainted on Kingsway in front of cars going 30-40mph and come away so unscathed. In simple terms, it could’ve happened a thousand times, and I would still be extremely unlikely to survive once. That’s what I think about now, six years later. I never think about the vision, because I convince myself that I’ve remembered wrong, because it seems too incredible to be true. I think to myself how God took my consciousness at the exact moment it needed to happen, how He designed me specifically for that moment to fall in the way that I did, at the speed that I did. God has loved me since before time itself, and He proved that to me on the 22^nd April 2005, at 8.35am, and He’s proved it time and time again throughout my life. He gave me the strength to forgive the bullies, and now some of them are among my very best friends. The issues of my childhood have disappeared. God remains faithful to me, and my family. My sister didn’t realise when she wrote it, but I believe she was unintentionally writing a deeply philosophical and theological statement about the nature of God: the fact that He is faithful, and He is with us all 'all the way'

Community

[Stockport Art Gallery with a display of photos of working lives from up to 130 years ago]

Lives of quiet drudgery, and yet dedication. For some merely a means to survive - and many would so claim - but in reality a means of self definition, status, validation. 'I contributed to that', 'I was part of building that', 'I make those'. And in that shared experience, that validation, that building up of something more than the individual could achieve, there is true community. 'No man is an island'; 'It is not good for the man to be alone'. Yet today, for so many, all that is gone, and many scramble after replacements: such as in online gaming, there building a community to belong to - of great shared depth of experience - but of true value, real legitimation?

So now I call my church to provide a true community for a world crying out for validation. In an atomised society my body can be a place of mutual encouragement, validation and legitimation. And yet that calls for more than the weekly gathering, singing together or even receiving the sacrament of my presence. In the community of work people spend tens of hours per week together: do you believe you can build community in an hour and a half? So seek after real relationship, seek to share deeply of your life with those around. Beware the things that eat your time - my time - for all that you have is mine, including ALL your time; you were bought with a price - it is not for you to resist my lawful call upon your life. But if you will let me spend you as I desire, then your life will have meaning and purpose and I will be glorified. Is that not your greatest desire?

God's Priorities

[Sitting in St Mary's Stockport in their Garden of Gethsemane display with the chatter of the cafe in another part of the church echoing around]

How do you decide what is truly important? Do you follow the crowd - the things that the peole around you rate, and so accept their valuation? Do you seek to apply your own values, your personal experiences and what you understand to be of importance because of the hurt you have heard of? Or do you listen for what I value, what I demonstrate and proclaim to be of real value, eternal value? You must seek to value as I value - for then you will focus on what is of true value - that which I will reward on the last day. And if you live your life by my values, then you will be of true service to me - though much of what you do may be disdained by those around you.

Consider the way that I work - and what I leave undone. Consider how I respond to the cries of my people - and how often they appear to go unheard. Consider the fruit of when my people have pursued their own understanding - and left fruit that continues to hinder my Word to this day.

The true test is 'It seemed good the Holy Spirit and to us'; too often my people rush to follow the concerns of the world when I am calling you to other tasks. And then you are surprised when your efforts appear fruitless - yet you do not stop to ask why this should be. Remember 'Woe to you when all speak well of you': you must be cautious when your priorities align to those of many in the world. Such conformity MAY be right - but may derive from your desire to avoid conflict with those around you who do not own my name. Behold I am the Prince of Peace - but that peace will come when I return and rule the nations with a rod of iron; until then there will always be conflict between my way and the way of the world: do not be surprised!

Being there

Listen while I tell you a story. A boy is born into a chaotic family, substance dependent, desperately seeking pleasure to cover up the deep hurt of being purposeless, unvalued by the wider community. Unemployed of course: who would want to employ someone with that sort of background?

And the boy grows up: moments of hope at school turn to despair when the support needed to scale the barriers is not forthcoming. Instead he chooses the easy route - finding moments of fulfilment in achievements that most would see as wrong: the striking graffito, the successful crime, the rush of the escape from the pursuing police.

Yet into that life did come new hope when a friend of his became a Christian and a true church emerged in his community. Not (as in his neighbourhood) a building full of people who reside far away from where the boy lives, wasting their efforts to prevent the burial of the stinking carcass that they call a church, but which serves only to confuse the people of that area about who I really am. Instead a true fellowship of strugglers came together, finding support and encouragement as they faced the siren call of their previous lives. Did they always resist? Is that your measure - expecting perfection from those whose besetting sins are deeply socially unacceptable? And yet from these ways they found the crutches to carry on, whereas your crutches are not so socially disdained, and so you feel able to overlook them.

Behold I am calling more and more to serve my lambs in such hard places. But I am calling out new forms of ministry, ministry that reaches these in ways that the traditions of my body inhibit. I have called my church to all nations - do you think I will be satisfied with merely the respectable, the comfortable, the visibly shiny? I seek to vindicate my gospel by bringing new life to the outcast, the rejected, the marginalised. For in such you see MY power released - for there is little human hope for them as they wallow in the cess pit that is all that they know.

So when you consider the priorities of your church, consider that boy. Remember that fellowship that I raised up. Remember, and consider whether your choices truly reflect that with which I am concerned, or merely your own agenda, your own comfort: your own children or my children? Will you listen with me for the cries of the despairing - or tune your ears to the business that you have chosen for yourself.

Carry YOUR burden

You have heard it said: 'Come to me, for my yoke is easy, my burden is light'. Yet for many this is not the case - instead you find yourselves  struggling with burdens you do not find light, with yokes you do not find easy.

So what has gone wrong? They have chosen to carry things to which I am not calling them. They have rushed to respond to a need they rightly perceive to be of concern to me, but instead of asking me whether I am calling them to accept this burden, they have become entrapped in things to which I have not called them, for which they are not gifted. Is it any surprise that they end up overloaded, hurting, stressed and ineffectual?

For do not be deceived - that something is 'the caring thing to do' doesn't mean that it is the right thing for you to do at this time. When Jesus was earth, he only did 'what he saw the Father doing'. You are called to live after his model: will you seek to learn to listen to me, or will you be satisfied with gaining your affirmation from doing what the world says is the right thing.
 
[No particular context - and no art work behind it, although I did write it in the cafe at the Art Gallery]

Beauty pt2

Beauty is my gift to you - a reminder that I created the world good and I can be seen in moments of transcendence when beauty assails you. For you are in part spirit - did I not breathe into you - and so you respond to what is redolent of me.

And yet like all my gifts beauty can become a curse when it is pursued for its own sake. Such is the nature of pornography: the good that I have made entraps the viewer because they use it only for their own pleasure, and not as a gateway to look through to me. But such entrapment may occur in any fixation on what is good to the exclusion of me.

True fulfilment is only found in me - all else is "Vanity, vanity". But I have created my world for you to enjoy: do not be afraid of the good, only beware less the good becomes a gateway for the bad.

[I wrote this down soon after arriving at the art gallery, but having done so, I spotted

The Sirens and Ulysses

which shows Ulysses tied to the mast of his ship to avoid joining the unfortunates who have succumbed to the call of the sirens and as a result are destroyed because they only have eyes for their beauty  - see Wikipedia ]

Beauty

Inspired by the V&A  (http://www.vam.ac.uk/) museum pottery display

This is your civilisation, my child, your culture, your inheritance. With their beauty I have blessed your people, and with comfort and many good things - but they are hungry for ever more. For in the midst of this tide of possessions they have lost me - and think to find me in getting yet more.

But I am not mocked; I am not found in a plenitude of possessions but in the humble surrender of the heart to me. Then these things can be enjoyed in their proper context, and i will enjoy the pleasure of my people in these beautiful things.

But so many of you will not turn. More and more you are hearing my word, my call to repentance, but the current of life whirls you on before you will listen long enough to repent and turn and be saved. So what am I to do? Must not the loving shepherd destroy that which is leading the flock into danger? So it is with you, my children, once more I will shake your society, your civilisation to make people desperate enough to stop and listen to my word. Then the harvest will be great, and my banqueting hall will be full. For surely I love them too much to let them die in their comfort - and perish.

The non-Jewish sower

It seemed God said to me: 'Listen, while I tell you a story; a sower went out to sow'

'I know that one'

'No you don't, this is a different one. A sower went out to sow, with a bag of mixed seeds.'

'He wasn't Jewish then?'

'No, he wasn't Jewish... And yes, he threw them around and some fell on the path, some in the thorns, but that's that not we are interested in here.

'So,  we have a variety of plants all growing on the good soil. They are there because they have different tendencies, different gifts. There's the one that gives off a chemical that discourages the birds from visiting too closely. There's another that fertilises the soil. There's another that protects from insects. And then there's the crop itself - whose only call is to bring out the fruit the farmer mainly wants. But the other plants are of value in themselves, and their fruit, their seeds, make the next generation of the mixed crop.

'And so it is with the church: some I call to bring forth fruit alone, but others I charge with responsibility to resist the enemy, or feed the plants. If all are not present, are not doing what I call them to, then the crop will be far less productive than it should be. I have called ALL my children to service in a variety of ways; do not assume that your gifts are the only important ones, do not assume that others of my children are not doing my will. But rather seek to find your gifting, and be open to something that seems very new, for my church in the West is sickly from damage done because ministries are missing.

'My children, I seek to restore my church as I desire it; never be satisfied with what is there now.

There is hope

[The picture is of a wonderfully well restored building on Oldham Street in the centre of Manchester. The rest of the street is fairly run down, with tatty second hand clothes shops, two sex shops etc. Yet suddenly we have this.]

http://www.flickr.com/photos/84195101@N00/3580463623#/photos/frankieroberto/3580463623/lightbox/

In the midst of the tawdry, the flawed, the malevolent, there is hope. For my grace is at work in my world, for I made it 'good' and not all is wholly corrupt. And it is the call of my people to offer that hope - and more - to those for whom life is beyond hope, beyond my grace, beyond the good that I offer so freely, but to which they are deaf. For though the heavens declare my glory, my power, for many their eyes look only downwards as their circumstances crush them little by little and no hope remains. And thus bitterness comes, and they cling to a few pleasures that do dull the pain - do not be surprised that so many are caught in self-destructive behaviour, having no true hope for the future in their lives.

And for such the lies of the enemy can offer illusions to cling to for a time - illusions that are soon found wanting and breed further despair and cynicism. The ignition of such hopes is the objective of political mobilisation, and whilst they may achieve something of value, in truth without my grace all involved will find their best efforts turn to dust in their hands, for all is in truth 'Vanity, vanity'.

And so my church must model a better way to live; Christians whose life experience is similar to those whose hope is now gone, need to come alongside the despairing: they will show a better way - and so bring hope and redemption and true salvation.

Do you not hear the cries of despair? So reach out to the hurting ones that they may find the true hope.

There are always victims

Prince Arthur and Hubert

[The picture is a scene from Shakespeare's King John:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hubert_de_Burgh,_1st_Earl_of_Kent#Captor_of_Arthur]

There are always victims. There is sin in my world, and it is a world that is meaningful - where actions have consequences - and so sin has consequences: there are always victims. It is your task to alleviate the suffering, and this is most actively done when you introduce people to me, and they find true hope and purpose and are saved from the fires of Hell. But you, as a body, should also act to bring relief to the specifically suffering - for such is to show true love. But this love must be wise, and remember the eternal context and consequences: never say 'Peace, peace' where there is no peace. Never affirm the sinner in his way, but ensure that your view is known - but then be sure to be there for the outcast, the reject. You should never say 'It's alright, it doesn't matter what you do' for sin is sin, and those whom I seek to save will not be healed if you do not seek to cleanse the wound of sin in their lives.

And yet they should experience your love, your concern, your empathy for their state. Is this easy? But such should be your vision.

And remember, there are always victims: if the sin in the land has become acceptable to many, then they are enslaved, and are acting as recruitment agents for others to fall as well. Do not be deceived: for them to listen to the enemy is to fall, and one day their choice will be become permanent.

Despair

(His only friend)

In quiet desperation

or true despair?

You live in a society suffering the consequences of its folly – for the pillars are being worn away as so many seek comfort by living by the beliefs that they have been taught – but which will lead them nowhere. They have little idea that there is an alternative, because they lack models by which to live, because they have been taught contempt of the old ways. “All is new” is the cry: “humanity can ignore the wisdom of the past and live in 'freedom' “.

But such is the way of destruction – for the world does not forgive sin, and one day there will be a reckoning, for I am not mocked.

My church must model a better way, a way that does work, that does provide true love, support and encouragement to people living as I desire.

At the heart of that model is trust and dependence: my people must be open to calls on their lives from their brothers and sisters. But now you take on too much – and so are stretched beyond such availability – and so the true needs are unmet.

And so in quiet desperation, in deep loneliness amputated by rejection, my body lies in pieces and the world sees a striving after the wind because you seek to keep the show on the road, not to be my body.