What questions do you have? What has God shown you in this week's study? What is He doing in your life today?

More importantly, what are you doing to seek His kingdom and righteousness? Let's talk!

"Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

What are your thoughts? What has the Lord taught you through your memorization & meditation of this verse? What is God doing in your life right now? What did you think of this week's post on this verse?

Anyway, we had a fight and I've been struggling since.

Please pray that I'm able to forgive her, and forgive myself, and to seek forgiveness before her and before God.

Pray that I'm able to react and navigate these situations with godly wisdom, in a way that glorifies God, and that whatever I do I will seek to glorify Him and to honor my parents first and foremost.

Thank you so much, sisters.

So, being a new Christian with three children, my biggest challenge has been to really disciple them, and to reach them with Christ and the word of God. They're so enmeshed in the things of this world. Cell phones, TV, video games. And all my family is, too, which makes it that much harder because I'm with them so little compared with the rest of my family.

So trying to set aside time for Bible studies, much less actually getting them engaged and listening, it's difficult. It's exhausting. It feels impossible.

Any tips on how I can make learning the Bible and learning about God more fun and engaging for them?

They LOVE going to church. They LOVE Sunday School (well, except my oldest. She's a preteen and that's a whole different set of problems I'm not ready to address here).

I just want them to love the Lord the way they love church. Any ideas?

My journey to salvation has felt like a desperate, life-long struggle. I’ve turned to witchcraft, flirted with Satanism, pleaded and begged God to show me a sign, to direct me–to choose me. Little did I know, He already had.

My definitive proof came when I became pregnant with my first daughter, Nova. She was my first proof-positive sign from God. The first that I recognized, anyway. And certainly the first of many.

Though I knew God existed and I believed in Jesus and the basic tenants of the Bible, I never called or considered myself a Christian. I noticed that unbelievers rarely seem to actually have anything against God. Rather, their problems are almost overwhelmingly with the churches they’ve been to and the Christians they've known. These churches and Christians represent Christ so poorly that those in the realm of their influence want nothing to do with "that" religion. In fact, their entire understanding of Christ is based upon these misrepresentations. And long before I knew that causing others to stumble in such a way as this is actually a sin, I knew I didn’t want to be responsible for someone else gaining a false image of Christ. More simply, I didn't know what "Christian life" was, but I knew I didn’t live a Christian life.

So I went on with my life, periodically in full-sin, sometimes even to the point of detesting God fully. Brief periods of faith would follow with longer periods of sorrow, and I’d often ask myself what was so wrong with me that God seemed so uninterested. What was so wrong with me that wasn’t wrong with anyone else? Often I’d act out, spitefully, from this very thought–which I know now to be the lies of the enemy.

The truth is, as my pastor says, “I’m not as bad as I think I am–I’m so much worse.” We all are. The Bible tells us that none of us is good, and that we all fall short of the glory of God. If not for this, we wouldn’t need the great redemption of our savior, Jesus Christ.

I found myself stuck in this cycle of rebellion, then turning back to God with my tail between my legs, and rebelling again. I’d visit a handful of churches throughout my life only to walk away feeling overwhelmed, left out, outcast, or wholly unfulfilled. And so the cycle would continue.

Then I separated from my husband and began the process of divorce, which meant moving back in with my parents and finding a new place to live large enough for myself and them, and my three children.

God often speaks to us through people he puts in our path. And so he sent me a realtor, Cristine, who went above and beyond to get us into the house of my dreams. Moreover, she invited us to her church, which would turn out to be the church of my dreams.

I began attending for the sake of my children. And out of a sense of obligation. At this point I was working exhaustively, driving an hour each way to take Nova to school and work a 10 hour shift, waking up before the sun rose and getting home after it set. I frequently slept through sermons.

When Cristine urged me into our church’s Biblical Counseling, I obliged. But soon I found it too inconvenient with my hectic schedule, and I certainly didn’t have time for all the homework. I was too tired! So I stopped counseling, and not long after, going to church altogether. And not long after that, I relapsed, and I went back out for a little over a year. During this time I experienced trauma I never could have imagined. I saw a side of the world and of humanity I never knew existed. I did unspeakable things and had unthinkable things done to me. Worse, I thought God had altogether abandoned me, and I gave up hope entirely.

Then I got hit by a car. And I survived. And though my mom let me come home, I still went back out again. Somehow I was sure, with every fiber of my being, that God had saved me from death simply because I didn’t deserve to escape the punishment of living the way I had been.

But God put someone else in my path. The fire captain drove an hour to pick me up, from a trap house in the middle of the night. He then drove me an hour back to check me into detox. And when I insisted on being released the following day, he met me at the facility. He urged me to try medication and outpatient treatment, and drove me home to my mom’s house. There he spoke with my mom to confirm my story. And he visited me every day until my first appointment, to bring me my medications, and to assure I was still home.

After about a month, I felt well enough to start looking for work, still recovering from a broken ankle and back, and I started bringing my kids to church again. And I was received with all the same love I had been the first time. But something started to change. I started to feel welcome, not just in the church, but in the Bible, and in Christ. I started feeling called to do more.

When Nova decided she didn’t want to attend her own Sunday School anymore, I decided I’d start attending one of the adult Sunday School classes so she’d attend with me there. Then I felt called to start going to counseling again. And the following Sunday, our sermon began with a presentation on the church’s Biblical Counseling services, with testimonies given by members of my church family that I didn’t yet know, but had seen every week. Many of them found the church through Biblical Counseling, and God had transformed their lives through these sessions. I knew it was my sign, and I signed up instantly.

I quickly realized that work was getting in the way again. But this time, I knew that God, and church, and the spiritual work I’d started were more important than anything else. And soon after that God opened a door for me to start a new job, which I’ll begin the first week of the new year.

My faith has continued to grow, and with it my understanding of and relationship with Christ. I feel joy and peace in ways I’d never expected. And I now know that God never abandoned me–though I did abandon Him. In fact, He did choose me. And He chose my trials.

He let me experience all that I went through, all of which was my own doing, not to punish me, but to help me fulfill my purpose. To give me a solid foundation to build on, and to help others like me. God has called me to share my story to glorify Him, who pulled me out of the darkest of places and has given me, and is still giving me, a life I never dreamed possible.

Now my foundation is more firm, and still growing more solid. I devote time to building it every day, so when the seeds are sown they can take root in good soil--to yield crops one hundred, sixty, or thirty times over.

So to tell of when I found Jesus–I didn’t. He was born in my heart 31 years ago, almost 32 now. All I had was to look within, to seek out His instruction, to accept help and guidance. All I had was to allow Him the opportunity to make Himself known.

He never abandoned me, I just didn’t know where to look.

The most difficult part of being a new Christian mom has overwhelmingly been the pressure I’ve felt to turn my children into tiny little saints overnight. Admittedly, I realize the source of this pressure is none other than myself. But I find myself reading verses like Proverbs 22:6, “Train up a child in the way he should go, even when he grows older he will not abandon it,” and 20:11, “It is by his deeds that a boy distinguishes himself, if his conduct is pure and right.”

I’m sorry—their deeds? Pure and right? When my pastor mentioned scouring the Proverbs for advice on parenting, I jumped at the bit, anxious for any formula I could get my hands on to assure me my children would walk a straight path to God’s Kingdom. But as I anxiously flipped the pages, highlighter in hand, the only assurance I felt was that my children were hopeless sinners, just like me.

Isn’t that the point?

Still, it’s taken months to sink in. Months spent screaming at my kids the fifth commandment. Lord, help me. Months, pleading with them to just listen while I read my favorite verse. Bribing them with whatever idol their little hearts desired. Months of shamefully delivering my youngest to the church’s nursery, apologizing that I hadn’t yet performed a miracle on him.

Then one day, my younger two got into a fight. And as I moved in to reprimand and discipline, the Spirit within me took over. I don’t remember the talk we had in its entirety. But I remember the tears rolling down her face, before I reminded her of what I’d only recently learned I would need to remind myself of constantly: if we weren’t sinners, we wouldn’t need a Savior. If we were capable of being perfect, Jesus wouldn’t have had to die for us. And I remember what she did next. She walked over to her Bible Study book, flipped to the page with instructions to write a personal prayer to God, and asked for help writing, "Dear God, I'm sorry for the bad things I've done. Please forgive me. Amen."

In that moment it all came rushing in. How can we expect our children to be anything more than we, as full-grown adults, are capable of being? And how can we teach them of their dependence on and need for God, if we treat them as though they alone are responsible for their save-ability?

How can we allow God to change their hearts if we focus so much on their behavior?

Matthew 6:33 tells us to "seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all of this will be provided." Providing for His children means far more than food, water, and necessities. God is "able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think" (Eph 3:20), who "did not spare His own son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things?" (Romans 8:32).

I pray daily that God helps me to hold onto this. Because it took me nearly 32 years to surrender myself to Him. And it was never up to me. He chose me, before the foundation of the world. But I had a lot to learn, to strengthen and prepare me for whatever He has planned for me. And I pray my children never have to walk through what I walked through--but I wouldn't dare rob them of the gift of God's plan at work, using all the junk I put myself through for my good and for His glory.

My job was never to make my children perfect. Only Christ can do that. And He's already done it, once and for all. My job is only to be a good, living example of Christlikeness, to teach them as much as I can about God's character and promises--then to stand back and let God do the heavy lifting.

Walking into the church, not even as a new Christian, but as a “non-believer”, I often felt out of place amid the generations of families and the joyful followers surrounding me. They all seemed like they'd grown up in church--and many of them have. I didn’t know the first thing about God. And honestly, the overflow of love with which I was welcomed terrified me. As a lost sheep wandering into this established flock, even in the loving, attentive company of the friend who invited me, I felt paranoia and pressure. It was like a fear rushing up through my body telling me that they knew I didn’t belong, that I wasn’t one of them. 

I later realized that this is a tool of the enemy, telling us we don’t belong in the presence of God. And what I learned is that really, none of us belong in God's Holy presence. That’s why we all need a Savior.

Obviously, I wasn’t raised in the church. My mom, like many of us, had some poor church experiences herself. Once, when I was about 8 years old, a neighbor invited us to church. They told me about the fun activities in the Sunday School, and I eagerly asked my mom if we could go. In more or less words, she said "no". It seemed harsh at the time, and I had no idea what she was talking about—I didn't even know what church was, really—but later I learned about some of the things she experienced in church when she was growing up.

For a long time I thought I was disadvantaged. I had to learn about God by myself. I remember praying to God to stop the rain so I could play. And when the rain stopped I knew God existed. Then my mom still wouldn’t take me to the park, and I knew there was no God.

Throughout my teenage years I experimented with various methods of Pagan worship, Buddhism; I even found a deep admiration of the Islamic religion. In high school I had teachers who tried to take me under their wings. They planted seeds when opportunities presented themselves. A friend gifted me a Bible and I struggled to read it, resigning to skim the theme-categorized verses in the back. Still, nothing stuck.

Once, in a TV show, a scene depicted a man in prison telling the priest that he likened God to a big bully, picking teams on a volleyball court. “Pick me, God, choose me,” he cried. That cry echoed in my brain for years.

I attended a handful of churches as I grew. Sometimes I sat through service, only to wonder once it finished, “is that it?” Sometimes I became suddenly overwhelmed by a rush of emotion. “Pick me, God. Choose me.” I ran out, and I cried, without the slightest clue as to why.

For most of my life, I’ve tried filling that God-sized hole in the pit of my stomach with pleasures of the flesh. Drugs, alcohol, toxic relationships, escapism, self-harm. God says, “seek, and you will find” (Matthew 7:7). I felt like I sought everywhere, but found nothing but pain. 

So when I stumbled into this church, weathered and broken with nothing left, I envied those around me who never questioned their salvation. When I signed up for Biblical Counseling, one intake question asked, “If you died today and God asked you, ‘Why should you go to Heaven,’ what would you say?” and I answered, “you shouldn’t. But I tried.”

What I learned in those counseling sessions would teach me one thing in particular. That statement equally indicated everything that was wrong with my theology, and everything that was right with it. 

What I learned in Biblical Counseling changed my life. I learned that none of us deserves Heaven. If any of us could earn the the righteousness of Heaven, Jesus wouldn’t have had to die on the cross. I learned that all the effort and good works in the world won’t get us into Heaven. God’s grace and His forgiveness are free gifts, paid by the bloody sacrifice of Jesus Christ. 

In those counseling sessions, I learned what True Saving Faith is.

I also learned that those I envied so deeply for their security of faith also struggled. That growing up in the church, for many of them, wasn’t an advantage. Some grew up believing that they were saved due to their roots and standing in the church. I learned that many of my church family who did grow up in church believed they were saved for so long, only to discover that they didn’t really know Christ at all.

In high school I had a teacher who said to me, “I can’t wait for you to find God. Because I know that when you do, you’ll have a real relationship with Christ.” Much like that cryptic quote from a television drama just a year prior, this passing statement stuck with me. Sometimes almost taunting me, but most it felt comforting. Still, I never quite understood what it meant to have a relationship with Christ. Until I found a church, and a church family, who really took the time and care to disciple me.

I’ve learned that growing up in the church isn’t always an advantage. I’ve learned that it depends on the church, and its members. The love they have for one another and the time they take to really disciple one another, and their focus on Christ and the hearts of its members makes the difference. Just the same, not growing up in the church isn’t always a disadvantage. The painful trials I’ve suffered—the consequences of my own sin—and the fight I had to face, the war I waged against myself and against God, in the end, led me to Christ. And it drove me to search painfully and desperately for the Truth, for a real, meaningful connection with God. It drove me to search for something more than the superficial faith I saw all around me.

Most importantly, I learned that God did choose me, “just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world” (Eph 1:4). And I believe that I needed to suffer the way I did, to conform me to His will and to prepare me for the path He’s laid out for me. So now I say, “therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses” (2 Cor 12:9).

My name is Emily. And this is the testimony of my life as new Christian, following Christ.

I’m a mom to three beautiful, spunky children—Nova, 10; Elara, 6; and Atlas, 4. My husband and I divorced two years ago and for more than a year after I lived in the very depths of sin. By the grace of God, He saved me, and gave me a new life and a new identity in Christ. I came home to my babies and my parents, cleaned myself up, and devoted my life to the Lord. Now I work full-time setting appointments for a home remodeling company—a job I absolutely love and whose employees and culture bring me so much joy and fulfillment. I spend the remainder of my time raising my babes and instructing them to know, love, obey, seek, and follow God. It isn’t an easy job. But it is so fulfilling.

We attend church at a small, non-denominational, Christ-centered, Bible-teaching church that practices expository preaching. Located in Ocala, Florida, we meet at the local YMCA, and are praying that God will soon provide us with a building of our own. We are a ministry-driven church with a counseling ministry, staffed with ACBC certified counselors. Through this church and its counseling ministry I’ve really come to know, love, and desire to serve and please Christ. It’s been through this church and its counseling ministry that I was saved last year, 2023. I was baptized this year on Easter Sunday, March 31, 2024.

As a new follower, I realize that there is, of course, plenty that I don’t yet know. And as a new follower, I struggle daily to undo thirty-plus years of misguided actions and sinful behaviors. But where sin abounds, grace abounds all the more. God is faithful to instruct me on the things I don’t know, to convict me of my sin, and to forgive me when I fall short. Which is a lot.

In June 2024, my ex-husband moved in with myself, our children, and my parents, in hopes of providing stability and a more solid family foundation for our kids. I’ve seen God work in my life and my home, and I believe He is still at work. While our marriage hasn’t been restored, my ex-husband and I have been getting along well, attending church together, and working together as a unit to lead and instruct our children. I never thought this possible prior to knowing Christ.

Today I know that God is capable, and He is willing to work and to heal. We need only to be willing to come to Him and to walk in faith. I am grateful for the horrific and painful trials I suffered, because I know that God remained faithful through it all, working out all things for my good and for His glory. Today, I am so excited to see what God has in store for me and for my family. And I pray for anyone who reads this, that the love of Christ flows through you, that the Word of God guides you, and that the peace of God rests on you, wherever you go.