This week's sermon at church was over boldness and being bold with your faith. It really got me thinking, I love God and want to follow His Word, but I haven't been bold enough. I want to be a better follower, I want to be bold. So to start off I'm going to share my testimony that very few people have heard. It's not something I talk about often or even tell many people, but a part of boldness is sharing my story in hopes that it touches someone else's heart and turns them to God as well. If you're a family member reading this, I'm sorry I never opened up sooner. Well here it is, it may be long so bear with me:

I started out in the church early, earlier than I can remember. My grandpa and my uncle are both preachers and my grandparents started taking me to their church before I could even walk on my own. I was baptized at the church camp I went to every year with those same grandparents and my parents watching me. I considered myself a strong Christian, I had a lot to learn.

In first grade I experienced my first real family death of an aunt who had practically helped raise me. When I was in second grade my dad was miraculously survived a work accident in which a slab of limestone rock fell on him and his co-worker. The co-worker died instantly. In third grade my best friend's mom died in a four-wheeler accident. In fifth grade a tornado struck my neighborhood and an uncle that I loved dearly died unexpectedly. Middle school is a story in itself.

Middle school wasn't easy for me by any means. I was dealing with a dad who was verbally and emotionally abusive. He would call my mom and me names and was almost always angry. Life consisted of tiptoeing around to make sure he was always happy. There's nothing worse than your own dad being the reason that you are constantly torn down and have no self-confidence. Along with this, my best friend became suicidal. I thought I would lose her. Because I was such close friends with her, people assumed that I was the same way. They would tell teachers and office staff that I was also cutting myself and so I was called down to the office at least once a week so that they could check my wrists for cuts. I was bullied. People treated me as if I was an outcast. If someone wanted my spot at lunch they would simply pick me up out of my seat and set me on the floor along with my tray of food and sit where I was. Eventually I lost hope and just sat alone to avoid it. I never told anyone though because I didn't want to be a snitch and then receive even more ridicule. In March of my 8th grade year my parents finally decided to divorce. While I thought that it would help things with my dad, it didn't. The yelling and snide comments got even worse. I joined track my 8th grade year so that I had to stay after school instead of going to his house. I stopped going to church, I had lost all hope. All of this nearly pushed me over the brink that year and the following year.

Because of the divorce my mom, my brother, and I moved to a new town to live with my other grandparents for a little while. This move meant leaving my school and the few friends that I did have. I didn't know anyone at this new school. I had never felt more alone. I had zero self-confidence and I was always upset. The two boyfriends I had in that time period both treated me horribly and ended up cheating on me which made me feel as if I was the one that had done something wrong. Dealing with the events of those two years made me want to give up. I felt like I was just a burden. I started harming myself, I would cut and scratch my ankles since my wrists were always checked and it was more noticeable there. I didn't want to be here anymore. Sure, I made friends my freshman year, but they also had the friends that they'd gone to school with their entire lives. I didn't know the inside stories or jokes. I was still an outsider. I didn't belong anywhere. That all changed my sophomore year.

Sophomore year I met my now best friend and sister-in-law, Hannah. She accepted me with wide open arms and we instantly became the best of friends. Beyond that, she also introduced me to her brother, who is now my husband. The two of them gave me more hope than I had possessed in a long time. They gave me true happiness. They introduced me to their church and brought me out of my daze. Because of them I once again started going to church on a daily basis. Words can't begin to describe how grateful I am for them. Without them, I don't know where I'd be today.

Now a little over three years later I am so very happy. I have a wonderful step-dad who treats me as his own. I am now in college and am so much more secure in my faith. I go to church on a regular basis and attend a weekly Bible study. Now that I've been turned back towards God, I feel so much better and happier. Hannah and Christopher (my husband), along with some others, helped me realize that a relationship with God was what I was missing out on this entire time.

You may still be weary, but I assure you that God works in mysterious and miraculous ways. He will fill that void in your life. He filled the void I'd been walking with for years.