Saturday, May 28, 2011

The post in which she tells you her testimony

For years people have asked me what my testimony is, and I didn't know what to tell them. I thought I didn't have that interesting of a story to tell. Here's my testimony, as I know it:

I used to be a mean person. I didn't beat people up, or tease them unmercifully, but I wasn't a terribly kind person. When I looked at others, I saw the worst in them. I was critical, unkind, and I masked all of this under a guise of "I am just brutally honest". But I wasn't honest. I wasn't honest with myself, or about myself. I felt like I had to lie about myself to make people like me. I felt like the life and story God had given me wasn't interesting enough. I had told so many lies about myself, that I was not sure what everyone even knew as the "truth" anymore.

I used to think I was saved almost all my life, but I realize now, that in reality, I only understood and accepted what Jesus did on the cross for me within the past five years.

I am the middle child of five in a Catholic family. We were religious, and went to church every week. I enjoyed being Catholic, and as I grew up, I knew others saw Catholics differently from other Christians. I adopted the attitude of "who needs to be born again, I was born right the first time.".

As much of a Christian as I thought I was, and as much as I could have explained that I was a wretch, and Jesus was perfect and came to die for me, I did not really get it. I liked the idea of it all. Jesus came to die for my sins, and I get to go to Heaven without too much effort on my part. Yay! I continued to do what I wanted to do, tempered for a while by my parents' expectations on how I should behave.

When I was 21 I got pregnant during a one night stand. I went to stay with friends while I was pregnant, but came home to live with my parents when Julia was born in June of 1998. Part of mom and dad agreeing to me coming home was a stipulation that I go to church every week. I jumped at the chance, because I felt like my life was incredibly out of whack with what God would want for me.

Having Julia helped settle me down, and caused me to mature. But I felt a void in my life. I knew the void I felt was a lack of God, but I did not know how to fill the hole. Church wasn't doing it, and I didn't know what else would.

Two years later, I really got to know this guy I met at DC United games named Kim. He was hilarious, but quiet, and strong. He was unlike any other man I had been involved with, and we began dating in September of 2000. Through the getting to know you process, it came out that Kim was a Christian, and we discussed my salvation as a Catholic. I probably said all the right things because we were engaged with both of us thinking I was a Christian.

While going through Catholic premarital counselling, the priest challenged me on whether we would attend the Catholic church after we were married. He insisted that we would, of course, raise the children in the Catholic church, and I instantly rebutted with "We WILL raise our children the way we think is best for our family." I think that is really the moment when I was no longer a Catholic, but now I was starting a new journey to fill the void I was feeling.

I worked in a small gallery while Kim and I were engaged and a lovely couple came in one day to look at paintings. The wife was so kind, and sweet, and friendly and found out through conversation that I was engaged and would be living in Reston after I was married. She asked if we had found a church there and told me about the church she attended there, called Reston Bible Church. She also gave me a tape of Lon Solomon's testimony, which I listened to as soon as I got home.

I can look back on all of this and see that God was doing a work in me. I began to prune things from my life, and sought to find a church community I belong to. I began attended a Lutheran church, in what Kim called my Catholic detox program, as soon as we were married. Soon we had a baby and our growing family was outgrowing this tiny church's programs, and I began to think of a new church to attend. I thought of the church the sweet lady had told me about, and thought it might be time for a visit.

The first time I came to RBC I walked out crying before the service began. It was big, I knew no one, and I was intimidated by the idea of attending a church so different from what I knew. A man who was greeting at the door, who I later knew was Dale Peak, lovingly chased me down, and coxed me back inside and to the welcome center. I was still really intimidated. They were going through the whole Bible, and I had clearly missed a few weeks, because they were already in the New Testament. I didn't bring my Bible with me, because I had never been to a church where you brought your Bible.

Week after week the pastor would give the gospel message at the close of teaching. Week after week, I didn't listen too hard, because that wasn't for me, right? But the gospel began to penetrate my mind every time I heard it. Sometime along the way, I awkwardly, silently, and timidly claimed Jesus as my Savior. But who could I tell? Wasn't I supposed to be saved already?

Gradually I became involved at church and joined a ministry called Birthmothers which sought to help women going through unwanted pregnancies. I met some ladies through this group, and coincidentally was invited to join their shepherd group at church. We had not had a chance to attend when Kim had a stroke on Mother's day 2008. I called one of my friends who was in both Birthmothers and the shepherd group, Bridget, with a prayer request.

Women I didn't know brought meals while my husband was in the ICU and hospital. The group reached out and supported me in a way I had not experienced before. Something was different about this "church" experience. We began to attend the shepherd group after Kim recovered, and we have been attending ever since.

I mention this because I had never experienced fellowship within a church. To me, growing up, fellowship hall was the place you went for donuts, after the service. But I began to have a church experience that looked a lot more like the early church then any experience I had before.

God has done a gradual work in me over my lifetime. I can not pinpoint when I was a believer. I can not know now why God did it so gradually. I think He knows the way I would like things to be done is with one huge grand gesture, so I could look back on a date and know it was the day I was saved. By doing a slow, drawn out transformation, I find I think about it all so much more. It has caused me to reflect more than I ever would if I had been saved in one big born again moment. I have epiphanies that bring me closer to God all the time. All the time, I have to pray “I believe! Help my unbelief.” And He does. I hear His still, small voice inside me, when I am quiet for a long enough period. Even though I did not have a big eureka moment where I accepted Christ, I know I have, and that he lives through me.

I am a nicer person now. I do not go out of my way to make fun of someone behind their back, I do not enjoy gossip like I used to. Because I mess up constantly, and God’s grace is infinite, I often hear myself saying “That’s not kind, I shouldn’t have said that”. God has and continues to chisel away at me to become more like Him. Things of the past, like promiscuity, swearing, over drinking, smoking, gossip, meanness... He is chipping them away, meanwhile blessing me beyond anything I deserve. Every day He molds me into a vessel for his good, all things I do through His power, grace and mercy alone. 2Corinthians 4:7 says:

We have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.


  1. awesome, maggie. it's so nice to read your whole story!

  2. thank you for posting this. for those of us without a "date", it is really nice to read about others who are the same!

  3. WOW...we have a LOT in common :)