Personal Stories about Belief in Jesus
So there I was, a young boy growing up in South Carolina, a stronghold of various types of faiths, especially Southern-born Protestant denominations that seemed to have an army of evangelists who were always eager to share their “testimony” or “witness” to Christ in some sort of way. They’d bombard you with questions like, “Have you received Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior?” or “Are you saved?” If it wasn’t that, they’d just flat out tell me that I was going to hell if I stayed Catholic.
Just being honest here … I didn’t really know what to say in response. It took me 25 years even to begin to think about having a testimony, let alone share one.
If done in earnestness, and not in some sort of rehearsed performance, giving a testimony can be one of the most intensely personal experiences that a person can have. This is because giving a sincere witness to the faith means baring your humanity to someone else.
Saying this leads me to share something I found in my faith journals that only a few have gotten to hear. The following is a summarized excerpt from my earliest attempt at a personal testimony:
I was baptized, raised, and confirmed Catholic, but most of my life was, in a sense, spent walking on the road to Emmaus. Jesus Christ, our Lord, walked with me for all my life, but I was too blind to recognize Him. All those years before now, I hardened my heart and followed my fleshly appetites until I buried myself under a mountain of sin; to make matters worse, I contented myself in that lifestyle. It wasn’t because I didn’t know any better. I had a mother who did her best to raise me in the faith, and I went through the normal Catholic education programs. I just thought I knew what was best for me. I made a farce out of the Catholic faith—only going through the motions and choosing to believe the teachings that were convenient for me. Looking back at it all, I am very fortunate for all the blessings I have been given, despite my rebellious behavior.
Life, we most often forget, is a process. Things do not often happen by accident; usually (if not always) things happen over time to prepare you for something. For example, I recently got married. My wife is a new convert to Catholicism. I went through the RCIA program with her to show my support and to answer any questions that she might have. However, during the course of the program, I found myself asking more questions than my wife; my eyes were being pried open to the fullness of truth. Not only did they teach what we believe but also why. I was too proud to admit it then, but I realized that I was not the good Christian that I pretended I was.
I didn’t know the faith, and it showed. God put people in my path to test me. Could I be Christ to and for them? Could I provide them a reason for my hope? Would I? Sadly, the answer at the time was a whimpering, “No.”
Then came Pentecost Sunday. I surrendered. I was in Confession. I wept uncontrollably. Each breath was a sob. Tears flooded my eyes. I gasped for air with every word that I spoke.
I accused myself until my lungs were no longer filled with air but only the joyful desire to embrace my patient Father and shout from the depths of my being, “Father, I’m home! I’m not worthy to receive you, but only say the words and I shall be healed” (cf. Matthew 8:8).
Through this entire ordeal, my view on Christ changed from seeing Him as a distant deity that enjoyed barking orders of “Don’t do this and that,” while listing out my sins so He could punish me later, to a much more clearer and truer image with arms outstretched, calling me by name, telling me that He loved me, forgives me, and wants me to come home to Him in heaven. I also learned that salvation doesn’t come cheap and that everyday we are engaged in a war for souls. I only want to be the warrior that Jesus Christ called me to be. I can’t be numbered in the list of “would-be” disciples, nor can I pass by those who are starving and thirsting for truth in the darkness of lies. I was there. I was rescued. I have to go back for the others—as they say in the military, “No man left behind.” In this case, “No soul left behind.”
So that’s my testimony. After you share your story of your personal relationship with God with someone, ask them for theirs. As your joy in humility overflows, ask them the reason for their hope in God. Then, moving the conversation onward, you can help them to build the next stage of their journey, one with Jesus Christ, Lord and God, at the center.
Sharing your testimony might also sound something like this:
[Examples of people giving their testimony of “Jesus is Lord”]
If there’s one thing that you can take to the bank when it comes to evangelizing, nobody will care what you know unless they know that you care. They have to know you care about your faith, and equally important they have to know that you care about them. Caring about them means committing yourself to walking with them for as long as they’ll let you. In other words, one of the evangelist’s greatest abilities is his or her availability.