thirty days of thirty years: sixteen

Year sixteen, age fifteen and sophomore year: September 1997-1998

During this year my Aunt Lora died and it was the first time I really remember being broken by immediate death. The night before her funeral we went over to her house as a family and I think I spent hours in the room I would stay as a child, just crying without pause. I told myself that I would leave the room when I stopped crying but it never happened. Eventually my grandpa came in and hugged me and walked me out, and eventually I stopped crying. But that was a great loss, indeed. 

Sophomore year I was in the journalism class at school and one day I was asked to write a story about Young Life for Cambia, the year book. So I went to club that week with a mini tape recorder that I borrowed from my brother. Before and after club I interviewed people about their experience with Young Life; what it was, why they went, etc. I eventually went up to Mindy and asked, "So, Mindy, why are you a Young Life leader?" And she answered, without skipping a beat, "For you." I think I awkwardly giggled a little and went on with the interview. 

A couple hours later, when I got home, I went straight to my room and closed the door. I took out that mini tape recorder and queued it to Mindy's interview, pressed play and listened to her words, "For you." Then I pressed rewind and play, "For you." Rewind and play again, "For you." Rewind and play again and again for quite a while until I was just sobbing. Those two words, for you, were the first two words of the gospel of Jesus for me. I don't know if I could have understood what it meant to be the object of God's affection, until I understood that I meant something to somebody like Mindy. 

I had been going out with this boy named David for most of my sophomore year. We essentially broke up because I wouldn't have sex with him and that break-up is what caused me to take a good look around and wonder who my friends really were and where I had been finding my identity for the past eight months or so. It was at this point that I realized how much I cared about who my friends or boyfriends were and what they thought of me, because I was finding my identity in my relationships. That was not the kind of person I wanted to be. I desired a more steadfast identity; a solid foundation.

This girl and guy in a couple of my classes had told me that they were going to this camp that summer called Circle-C. I had actually been to Circle-C Ranch three times before, all throughout middle school, so I knew what it was. After this break-up and before the registration deadline, I signed up to go.

During that week all the missing pieces of the gospel of Jesus came together for me. Having grown up Catholic, I believed that my standing in God's favor was dependent on me and what I did or didn't do and I wasted a lot of time feeling guilty or unfulfilled. I was religious but that's about it. That week I listened closely to what everybody had to say about really having a relationship with Jesus, and what that meant not only for me in the after-life, but for my real life. There was a time when all the campers had the opportunity to share something significant about the week and I said, in a microphone in front of a couple hundred teenagers, "I came here looking for something and I found it."

I cannot say there was one exact ah-ha moment where I became a Christian, but when I got home I opened my Bible and I did it again every night after that for a long time. That was when I found my life.