On God and Christianity

I'm a girl who was raised to be more agnostic than athiest or Christian. I've lived my life constantly wondering about the existence of the Lord, lived with only the wish to be a Christian one day. Even in elementary school, I was worried because no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I could not believe that a God was most definitely real. I tried so hard it made me cry at night.

Life steadily got worse for me as I turned away from Christianity. I had a very negative view point for a long while. "Even if He is real, I will never be able to believe with my soul, so why even try?" And I gave in. I didn't try.

At a certain point in my junior high years, I began to try again because I knew that I needed help and that I would not be given it by any mortal being. My belief that there may be a God started to return, and I started asking about it more often when I was around my Christian friends. At one point, a friend of mine got a little frustrated with me when I explained to her why I hadn't accepted Christ as my savior. She argued that it shouldn't be that hard - if I just did it, everything would be so much easier and I would be saved. I knew she was trying to help me, and because she'd lived her life in God's arms, she knew him already and didn't quite understand that it was harder for me than anything else. I, having a logical mind and raised on the wrong side of religion for most of my life, had to have proof before I could believe. I thought I would never be able to get that proof though. Even so, I watched for the signs that would surely come to me..

In eighth grade, my grandpa began to die. It was painful for him, but he was strong - that I knew. But he began to give up, and I couldn't stand to watch him do that. I was never very close to him, but he was still Grandpa. He couldn't just leave us behind. I knew that it just might be his time, but I didn't want him to give up because he still had a fighting chance.

So I asked that God give him strength and let him live. I prayed for him, and I tried to make a bargain with God. I said to him, "Please, God, please let my grandfather live. I'm begging this of you, if you are out there, you will give him the strength to go on even through his pain, to get through it until it really is his time. I swear on everything I live for, that if you would please do this, it would mean so much to me. I know you may not forgive me just yet, but all I am asking is that you answer this prayer not for me, but for him who I pray for."

And I knew that if He did answer my prayers, I would begin to believe. And that I promised.

My grandfather passed away on March 4th, 2010. But you know what? He fought for weeks before it was he knew it was then his time. And you know what? I kept to my promise. I began to believe.
Since March, I have fought in my soul to make my belief of God real. Still, though, I had trouble. It never occured to me that I hadn't asked for His help.. I hadn't asked and he hadn't given it.

Then the most peculiar thing happened to me last night - or really, at 12:01 this morning. I've been having a rough time with life for the past couple of weeks, and I had a terrible break down last night after talking to my friend Ryan, who had been telling me of his friends' beliefs and of his own. He told me story upon story, but I argued that everyone had their own story of when they began to truly believe and that mine just hadn't come to existance yet. Tired, he went to bed. Saddened, I laid in mine and mulled over everything that had happened in the past few weeks.

I started to cry, and I didn't know why but I couldn't stop. And then I begged God for his forgiveness and his help. I begged for Him to let me in his arms, and to help me choose the paths I must take.

And here is the odd part. I have always believed that my iPod is... just... special. Almost any time I need to think about a certain thing, on shuffle there is a song that will play according to my thoughts. And you know, to base my religious belief on something as silly as an object that randomly chooses music is an odd thing to do. But when I asked for His forgiveness, out of over 700 songs, a song called "She Will Be Loved" by Maroon 5 came on. Granted, it is not a Christian song, but at the time, these lyrics right here, well, they meant more to me than you could imagine.

"It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along, yeah
My heart is full and my door's always open
You can come anytime you want

I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved

I know where you hide
Alone in your car
Know all of the things that make you who you are
I know that goodbye means nothing at all
Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls"

Now, just think. Music is one of the most important things in life to me. It speaks to me more than any other type of art, and I love it dearly. And at that moment in time, I seemed to realize that I really was loved by the Lord and that He would always be there if I needed him to be.

Just after that song came the next song that even though it was about bloodshed and war, it still spoke to me in a religious way, and only because my wandering mind attuned to it only at one line. "Pet" by A Perfect Circle.

"Go back to sleep."

I had asked him what I should do at that very moment, what I needed to do, and afterward I fell asleep, snuggling my purple bunny and laying in the comforting arms of the Lord.

And here it is now that I state my new belief.

I am saved.

S.21.12:01.