My testimony of Jesus

My testimony of Jesus began when I was a little girl. I was born into a ministry family. My grandfather was an anointed man of God that saturated our family culture with prayer and faith. In the community, he was Reverend Solomon Mills, pastor of Quindaro Church of God In Christ, but to me he was “grandpa”.
As a little girl, I remember him “disappearing” for hours only to learn that he was in prayer or “seeking the Lord”. My five year-old mind was confused by my granddad’s daily retreats. I remember thinking that the Lord must be awfully lost for grandpa to be gone “seeking him” all the time.
A grandmother’s influence
My grandmother, Ethel Mills, was a gentle, soft-spoken Christian woman. She served God fervently as a church member and the wife of a busy, country pastor. As a girl, I watched her prepare his meals and minister to his needs so that he could be a blessing to others. Never once had I heard her complain or utter an ill word about anyone. That’s quite a testament considering that I spent a great deal of time with her.
“Someday, you’re going to be a pastor’s wife”, she’d say. Too young to comprehend, I dismissed her forecast.
A praying mom
My mom, Ethel, also shares a gentle – but progressive – spirit. She exuded an air of Godly sophistication and humility that she carries to this day. She worked hard to provide a great life for me and my brothers. Lord knows, I tested her patience incessantly with my rebellion and never-ceasing “smart” mouth comments.
But ,each night I remember seeing my mother quiet herself, kneel to her knees and pray. I knew many of those prayers were for me.
My Uncle Charlie
Then, there was Uncle Charlie. To others, he was Elder Charles Mills, but to me, he was my jovial, fun-loving uncle. When he looked at me, I knew he saw something in me that I didn’t see. It was like he had expectations for me. As I would rebel years later, it grieved me to know that Uncle Charlie would be disappointed in me. When my mom told him of my latest antics, he would simply rubbed the top of my head to tousle my hair and say, “you’ll be all right”. After that, he’d walk away. No lecture. Nothing. His kindness and grace somehow made me want to do better.
Who would “thunk” it?
Who would have known that one quiet Sunday morning, my uncle Charlie would preach a sermon that would be the catalyst in me “doing better”? Not long after Uncle Charlie buried his own son, Michael, he preached a sermon about God’s faithfulness and accessibility to us.
I couldn’t wait for him to finish – not because I was bored – but so I could rush down the altar to meet this kind and loving God for myself. Once the “doors of the church were opened”, I quickly stood up and advanced toward the empty chairs at the end of the aisle. The congregation sang:
“Come to Jesus,
Come to Jesus…Come to Jesus just now”
I just kept walking. The walk down the long, narrow church aisle seemed endless.
My head hung and my eyes were fixed on my blue high-healed pumps as I slowly put one foot in front of the other. About two feet from the altar, I remember slowly lifting my eyes to see my smiling uncle Charlie with his arms extended for me.
I ran into his open embrace. My life changed forever – as did my behavior, my responses and my relationships. I never became perfect, but, I started reaching – or striving – for the type of perfection that represents spiritual maturity. I wanted to be a good Christian and a blessing to others so they could see Jesus in me.
A teenager in love with Jesus.
I fell in love with Jesus in a crazy way.
At night, I stayed up hours and hours reading and searching His Word, learning His ways, exploring His likes and dislikes – simply getting to know Him. “Teri, your Bible will be there in the morning” my grandma would say chuckling as she’d turn out my bedroom lights well after midnight. My testimony of Jesus is rooted in loving His Word.
As the story goes, my Bible was there the next day and I’d dive into it afresh. Also, my grandmother was right about something else. I married an amazing man of God that happens to pastor an amazing church. I blog about that on Marriedtoapastor.com.
It all makes sense to me now.
I now understand why my granddad spent so many hours tucked away with his Bible and his Lord. He was enjoying Jesus. Loving Him, being loved by Him, and allowing Him to conform Him into a Godly image. The by-product of all that was that he could deliver sermons to help others grow in grace.
If I am anything, if anything I have done has ever amounted to anything, it’s because of my mom, grandma, granddad, patient uncle and many, many others that have sowed into my life.
Now, I try to sow into others so they can fall in love with Jesus as I did.
As the old song goes:
I keep falling in love with Him over and over, over and over again
It gets sweeter and sweeter as the days go by
Oh what a love between my Lord and I
I keep falling in love with Him over and over, over and over again
That’s my testimony. A Godsy Girl gone right.
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I remember that song being sung by my PastorJohn Macklin and now I really understand the meaning. Thanks for sharing!
Thanks for sharing your beautiful testimony sweetie.