Cat (Psychology, 2005-08)
I was brought up in a non-Christian home, although my parents are very moral and what most would consider ‘good’ people. I always liked the idea of there being a God – someone there to look after us, but I thought that I had to be a ‘good girl’ to make myself good enough for Him. I’d been taught a bit about life of Jesus, such as the Christmas and Easter stories and the parables. I knew that the cross was the symbol for Christianity, but no one had ever told me why, or just what a huge significance it has for Christians.
In year 10 my friend, Lucy, happened to be walking home from school the same way as me. The conversation got round to the topic of God, and it ended up with us sitting on a park bench in the rain, and her telling me the gospel: that God is perfect and we’re not, so that means that, as we stand, there is no way He can even bear to look at us, let alone be around us. And there is no way we can make ourselves good enough, because we’re imperfect and you can never make an imperfect thing perfect again. That hit me hard, as I’m a perfectionist and so have always aimed for perfection and thought that my own efforts would get me there. The news that I could never achieve that hurt. But God isn’t a cruel dictator who sits on a throne in the clouds and laughs at our failures. He loves us dearly, and wants us to be able to be near Him. So He sent His perfect Son, Jesus, to die for us, in our place, so that we can be counted perfect in His sight.
Although this news brought lots of relief and security, one of the big obstacles for me was accepting that if my family weren’t Christians then they would not be getting into heaven, because they weren’t acknowledging the sacrifice that Jesus made for them. Their attitude and the way that they lived their lives was basically saying that they didn’t need that sacrifice to be good enough for God (even if they weren’t saying it in words). I remember in the first few weeks after I became a Christian, there were so many times that I just wanted to forget about what my friend had told me, because I knew that if I accepted Christianity then I would have to accept that my family would be going to hell. That was really, really scary and hurt so much. But for some reason, I couldn’t just forget about the message of Jesus. It was too big to ignore.
So over the years I started going to church and a local youth group. Especially since coming to uni I’ve grown so much as a Christian, and I know that that’s only down to God. He’s constantly teaching me more about who He is and what He’s done for me, and what He continues to do for me today. I’m really getting to know Him as a person, and that He’s not some distant guy on a cloud playing a harp. It’s becoming more and more evident to me that God has changed me dramatically on the inside in terms of my thoughts and what things I give priority to in life. In fact, every Christian’s testimony, including mine, is the most dramatic thing possible – it’s the account of how God has brought us from death to life.