ZionMagazine-Final

I now like to refer to as Holy Days). My response
was always, “No”, usually followed by some
snarky child-like comment filled with my thoughts
on how I didn’t need God to get through life.
In college my mother was filled with more grace
than I’ve ever seen in another human being. The
irony of the Lord: her name is Grace. I made
all of the wrong choices we pray our children
don’t make, yet she still showed love and shared
wisdom in the kindest way possible. She traveled
from out of state to help my sister pack up her
things to begin her journey off to college. Mom
asked if she could stay with me for the night.
Sadly, I was the typical college student. I lived
with three boys and we drank often. I showed my
mother such little respect that evening. I texted
her that day to see if she cared that I stay at a
friend’s to watch a movie. She said no. It was my
friend who nudged me home that night to spend
time with my mom. When I got home, Mom was
sitting around the campfire with my roommates.
Conversation was lead to our beliefs and we
each took turns sharing our thoughts on who
we, as humans, are and how we got here. After
embarking on a journey using drugs the week
prior, I was convinced that there was someone
else in the universe that was performing a large
social experiment: that they had placed us all
here on earth, split the land, colored our skins
differently, molded us to have distinctly different
facial features, and caused us to speak different
languages. Yet, I didn’t believe in God. My mother
started sharing her testimony and, as you can
imagine, it was filled with Jesus. I begged her to
stop and, with poise, she did by asking each of us
to think about what we really believed. “Put some
time into it and do some research,” she said.
School was about to start up again and I moved
closer to campus. Within a week I was poking
around on the internet about religion. I remember
making a list of things I wanted to do to better
myself: drink more water, memorize more
geography, learn about different religions, etc. I
didn’t want to limit myself to Christianity. My
mom had placed a curious desire in my heart; a
desire to figure out the truth (although truth be told
I never thought I’d find it in religion). I looked up
the beliefs of all major religions and searched for
biblical proofs. One night I was googling Christian
artifacts and the next morning I awoke – changed.
As fast as you read it, it happened. God had taken
me out of my self and had made me new. He gave
me the new eyes, new mind, and new heart that
we talk about. If it wasn’t for that amazing mother
of mine, obedient to pray for me and testify in the
name of the Lord and His ways, I wonder how
long it would have taken me to receive His calling.
God is calling each of us. He calls all of us to
believe in Him, and when we do He calls all of
us to action. Shortly after coming to faith, the
Lord called me to write a book for Him. It was to
be titled ‘Beyond A Reasonable Doubt,’ and was
to be filled with all of the Christian history and
artifacts that had originally piqued my interest into
the reality of faith. I spent two years fervently
reading my Bible, researching, and taking notes for
the book. He showed Himself to me. When He
spoke I heard Him and when I called on Him He
answered in miraculous God-sized ways.
I never wrote the book. Life got busy and
my priorities shifted away from the Lord. Just
like the Israelites, I quickly lost sight of God’s
wonder. A few years later, I pursued a degree in
Criminal Justice and it wasn’t until then that I truly
understood the meaning of my book’s title. In
a criminal case, in order to find a person guilty,
there must be evidence beyond a reasonable
doubt. I still can’t help but think that if we took the
existence of Christianity (a Creator of all things and
the presence of His Spirit within Jesus the Christ)
to court, there would be enough evidence to say,
beyond a reasonable doubt, this is real.
When the Lord places a calling on our hearts’,
we are to follow. I had asked God to do things for
me, to show me things, to change things, and He
did. Failing to write the book that the Lord had
clearly communicated for me to write wasn’t His
desire. The Creator of life itself chose to talk with
me, and He asked me to do something for Him!
Who was I to choose not to follow His request?
I chose to place more value on my desires and
the criticism of those surrounding me. There’s a
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